Batman: The Complete Knight of Vengeance Saga
by DARK KNIGHT of the MOON
Summary: A reissue of the KOV saga... both stories put together in 2 parts. Featuring the Joker, Clayface, Two-Face, the Penguin, The Riddler and Catwoman...
1. Part 1 Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

It was a dark, cold and foggy night in Gotham City as Doctor Carl Peters, one of Arkham Asylum's most respected psychiatrists moved quietly down one of the lonely institution's corridors equipped with pen and clipboard. He grew nervous, as he was about to conduct an annual examination on one of the city's most notorious maniacs, _The Joker_.

After the death of his pregnant wife, the Joker, who at the time was nothing more than a failed comedian turned gangster, fell into a chemical bath during a failed heist at the Axis Chemical Plant in Gotham City. The accident that turned him criminally insane, also bleached his skin white, died his hair a shocking green and distorted his face into a leering and psychotic grin.

As Dr. Peters came to the dark, padded cell where the Clown Prince of Crime was securely imprisoned, a guard stood ready to grant the good doctor access.

"Hiya Doc," the stiff guard muttered in a gruff voice.

"Hello Sir," the doctor nodded a reply.

"I tell ya' Doc, I gotta get a better shift. These nights really screw with my head," the guard moaned tiredly, rubbing his temple.

"How has he been?" asked the impatient doctor, tapping his pen to the clipboard.

"He keeps sayin' that a storm is comin'. Crazy talk if ya' ask me."

"I'll be the judge of that," exclaimed Peters mockingly. He began to sweat as the guard swiftly unlatched the bulky steel cell door. He stepped inside to find the madman seated in a dark corner illuminated by the moonlight that was seeping through an arched window, barred on the other side of the cell. As the doctor stared in awe at the maniac on the floor, restrained by a straightjacket that has seen better days, he noticed that his usually bright green hair was dark and disheveled while his face was as white and cold as ever.

"Hello my boy!" exclaimed the clown as a devilish smile came to his crimson lips. "Are we here to prove my insanity or do you wish to play _Ring around the Rosie_?"

"That's enough Mister Joker. I am in no mood for games tonight. Let's talk about why you are here. It's not the killing that bothers me. In my mind you are much more than a murderous criminal -." Doctor Peters stated as he was suddenly interrupted.

"Your opinion doesn't interest me Carl. Didn't the nice man outside tell you? There is a storm coming and when it hits, a wondrous wave of crime will flood the city," he smirked.

"How do you know this Mister Joker?" Peters questioned.

"'Cause Doc, my boy, Harvey Dent has escaped your precious walls of Arkham."

"_Two-Face_?" mumbled the surprised doctor as a shocked glare came over him.

"That's right Doc and now that he's free, I have no doubt he will try to conspire with the greatest of Gotham's underworld. Face it Doc, hell is gonna come to this city. You people really need to tighten the security of this place," he cackled his famous laugh.

A wave of panic washed over Doctor Peters as he immediately rushed out of the dark cell to alert the rest of Arkham of the supposed breakout.

* * *

The following morning, billionaire playboy Bruce Wayne slouched in his brown executive chair in his office at Wayne Tower, the cornerstone of Wayne Enterprises, in the heart of the city. As his secretary brought him the front page, he scoured at the headline of _The Gotham Chronicle_. 

"Harvey Two-Face has Escaped from Arkham!" the frustrated playboy read over a cup of morning coffee. He slammed the page down on his desk in a hard motion. Rising from his desk he stalked to the window and stared out over the city horizon. As he stood in thought, his blue eyes peered toward the majestic, gothic architecture that helped make up his fair city.

He abruptly notified his secretary to cancel all of his appointments for the day, including the game of golf he had scheduled for this afternoon with Lucius Fox, Wayne Enterprises chief advisor. Snatching the paper from his cluttered desk, he immediately exited his office.

Riding the elevator down, he wondered the reason behind Two-Face's latest breakout. Bruce then thought of the old times he and Harvey Dent had shared before the tragic accident had scarred his friend, both internally and externally. Departing from the elevator, he exited Wayne Tower altogether. Reaching his green _Alfa Romeo_ parked directly outside the office, he sped away.

Reaching the outskirts of downtown, Bruce recalled, as he had many times before, the vow that he had made to his beloved parents. He had made a silent promise to avenge his parents' death. He thought of the night they were murdered and the place his destiny was conceived. The place now known as Crime Alley was nothing more than an alleyway that people took as a shortcut to get to the now defunct Monarch Theater. A horrible feeling came over him, as he continued his drive. He remembered those two fateful gunshots. Bruce had since seen the man gunned down outside the local courthouse, but the name stayed with him. _Joseph Chill_, Bruce reminisced, as a cold feeling went up his spine.

He hadn't had his alter ego for very long. Just three years ago, he had returned to Gotham City from a 12-year odyssey. Shortly after was when he assumed the mantle of the Batman for the first time in order to strike fear into the hearts of criminals. He trekked across parts of Europe and Asia. With help from some of the greatest minds in the world, he had forged his mind and body into perfect weapons in an effort to become the ultimate crime fighter.

As the approaching stoplight turned red, he slowed the expensive machine to a halt. His gaze wondered to a group of stray cats scrounging in a nearby trashcan. The sidewalk was dirty like any common feasting table for an alley cat.

This sight reminded him of the illustrious _Catwoman_, whom he as Batman, had aided the police in capturing and returning to Stonegate Penitentiary the previous week after she was seen robbing a museum of precious artifacts for her personal collection.

His thoughts were suddenly broken at the sound of a loud car horn behind him. Wiping the previous thoughts from mind, he shifted into gear and sped away.

Moments later, he arrived at the stately Wayne Manor as the ironclad East Gate opened onto the sculptured grounds of the estate. Alfred Pennyworth, servant to the Wayne Family for many years and the only man who knows his darkest secret, awaited him at the door, ready to aid. Bruce rushed in, proceeding to exchange his beige overcoat for a small glass of water.

"I take it you've seen the news Alfred?" Bruce said questioningly as he drank his water in a thirsty gulp.

"Indeed Sir. All is ready," exclaimed the humble servant, his thin mouth curving into a slight smile.

With that Bruce raced to his study and set the old family heirloom, a massive oak grandfather clock, to 10:47 pm - the exact time of his parents' murder. Abruptly the clock shifted out from the wall, revealing a gaping void and a stone staircase. Treading down the gothic staircase, built into the solid cavern structure, Bruce entered into another realm of his psyche: the Batcave.

As Bruce brooded in his underground labyrinth, he worked quickly going through several files on Two-Face discovered by the Batcave's massive, flat panel central computer and other high-tech equipment. Squinting his tired eyes at the giant computer screen, Bruce concentrated on a certain file that detailed the previous capture of Two-Face before his latest escape.

From out of nowhere, Alfred came into the dank cave. "Master Bruce, I trust you will be departing soon?" the lanky man said with an arched brow.

"Yes, I'm planning to visit Axis Chemicals tonight. I think I know the motive behind Two-Face's latest breakout. Commissioner Gordon got a tip that he's going to rally with some of Gotham's lesser-known crime circles. Something about an illegal, chemical trade for profit. It's funny Alfred, I always thought of Two-Face as more than just a gangster for hire. Maybe a visit by the Batman will turn up some evidence as to why he is siding with small time crooks," he stated, as his face remained stern, not moving his eyes from the computer screen.

"But why would Mr. Dent engage in such petty crimes if he's not to benefit?" Alfred wondered aloud to Bruce. "Could it be a double cross?"

"Possibly Alfred" Bruce said unsurely. "Well, there's one way to find out. It's time to go to work."


	2. Part 1 Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

As the night progressed at the Axis Chemical Plant, many of the plant's workers grew restless. It was almost time for third shift; hence many employees were neglecting their duties. Even with some of the workers leaving early, while others stayed late for more man-hours, the commotion inside was still evident.

Loud, larger than life fans echoed as the swirling vertex evaporated fumes out of various toxic chemicals. The motors that ran the fans and other equipment in the three story building could be heard by the loud chugging sound of toxic waste disposal through monstrous vats and out into the harbor.

In the offices of the plant, the daily gossip was being spread among the higher-ranking officials during an untimely meeting.

Suddenly on the third level in a boardroom, a piercing scream boomed above the monstrous noise of high-tech labor. The sound of shattering glass deafened anyone that was near.

In an instant, the place was overtaken with gunfire. Screams escalated while the shots of M-16s and submachine guns were perceived from various locations in the plant.

As the thunderous roar of the machines continued in the background, a tall, broad shouldered figure appeared in the heart of the facility. It was Harvey Dent, the former district attorney of Gotham, otherwise known as the unscrupulous criminal _Two-Face_.

Once deemed a handsome playboy like his old chum Bruce Wayne, Harvey had everything going for him. A beautiful fiancé, one of the highest electoral positions of the city – his life was perfect… until that fateful night. Once a handsome fellow, one half of his body was turned grotesque and scarred, while the other side was just as normal and handsome. He became a virtual Jekyll and Hyde.

Dressed in a half leopard print and half black suit, he pulled out his favorite weapon of choice, a Tommy gun, and fired erratically at innocent bystanders. As he shot a man in the head, a harsh bellow echoed over the plant's P.A. system like rolling thunder.

"Now here this," a low, raspy voice announced slowly, "This is Caesar Vanelli, the leader of the Vanelli gang. Sorry to interrupt your night ladies and gentlemen," he remarked harshly, "but we have business here and unfortunately you're in the way. We're taking hostages and if we find you, you belong to us. That is all," he finished, shutting off the microphone with a switch.

After the announcement, gunfire was all anyone heard as people fled for their lives. Some were screaming, some hiding and some getting gunned down in a gory fashion from sheer lack of cooperation.

Two-Face took the elevator with two of his best guards to the second floor. Entering the largest boardroom in the plant, he found the one called Vanelli relaxing in a black executive chair dressed in classic gangster garb, a dark red suit and fedora, with cigar in mouth.

The room was dark but at each side of Vanelli stood two of his own goons, equally as strapped. He set at the head of the oblong table with files spread out across it.

Looking him up and down, from his leather shoes to the brim of his hat; Two-Face crossed his arms, ready to get the night moving. "Well Vanelli," he started his tone level and demanding, "What do we do now? My boys are still rounding up the last of the hostages and your goons are shutting down all of the equipment," the half-man, half-monster exclaimed.

"Good Harvey, good; once my boys get all the loud crap shut down, we'll be able to start loading barrels out the back; making us both a healthy profit," he grinned widely, as they began chuckling to each other.

His grin widened as a plump, red-in-the-face man walked in unannounced. Two-Face's hand instinctively reached for his revolver but as the stout man spoke, he relaxed his grip, sighing.

"Hey Boss," the stout man began, "the boys are done with the hostages – a pathetic lot. They're all in the mixing room, 3-B," he informed, out of breath.

"Harvey, this is my right-hand man; my _go-to_ guy you could say. Meet Simon Oniell. He's my…" Vanelli's speech trailed off as a loud commotion rang from above. As the three men looked up, something barreled through the skylight, shattering glass all around them.

"Holy shit! It's the Batman!" Vanelli exclaimed, racing from his chair, protecting his beady eyes from shards of glass. "Do something!" he continued to Simon and his guards.

The dark stature stood in an impressive stance as his cape covered him like a black veil. "Give it up gentleman," the figure ordered in a gruff, demanding tone.

Just then, Simon Oniell began to load his 9-millimeter pistol with a new clip. The Dark Knight, as he had come to be known, darted toward the man and kicked him through the window onto a platform outside the office. Two-Face grasped a small side arm but before he could fire it, a batarang tore it out of his unsteady hand.

As quick as lightning, the Dark Knight jumped through the shattered office window onto the platform outside the office. He was met with some resistance however, as a henchman swung at him. Batman ducked, but as the goon fell into him, the two men lost balance and went toppling over the railing. As Batman grabbed onto the other side of the railing with one hand, the other hand reached for the goon, but it was too late. He lost grip and plunged into the huge vat of waste. As Batman flew over the railing to safety, more armed goons met him. As he lunged out into midair, toward a vat of toxins, he fired his grapple gun, zipping up to the third floor, the top level of the plant.

Immediate gunfire from Vanelli's men followed the Dark Knight towards the third floor while Two-Face gathered his goons to conduct a quick conference.

"Johnny, you take Vic and Vince and start loading up all the stuff you can into our van out back. Shifty, Bones," he singled out another pair of guys, "you two come with me," he ordered, racing from the room.

"Sure boss," they responded obediently, chasing after him.

Two-Face lead his men to the third floor in pursuit of Batman. As they saw him fending off a gang of Vanelli's thugs, Two-Face concocted an idea. He quickly instructed his men down to the lower levels of the plant. He thought of an escape route in the form of Batman's distraction:

_If I can get the gang out of here with enough chemicals, I'll avoid Batman and Vanelli altogether_, he reasoned greedily. As they reached the lower level, Two-Face's gang was whole again. They continued to load up several big yellow barrels in the stolen armored van.

Out of nowhere, Batman descended from his line to topple one of Two-Face's goons hard on the solid ground. Firing commenced, forcing Batman to deck as many goons as possible. After he kicked one in the face and gave another a swift right hook, he leapt onto an overhead railing to miss a stray bullet. Swinging from the railing, his right foot crashed into the masked face of the gunman. Now on the ground, a couple more thugs came at him, as he swung one over his shoulder and head butted the other, nearly breaking his nose.

He stood tall, noticing Two-Face had used his men as a diversion to escape to the other side of the plant. Shooting a line up to the third level for a better view of the situation, he heard loud yet muffled screams from within.

_They're coming from the mixing rooms_, he realized, guessing hostages were taken. He jumped through a window and raced to where the sounds echoed the loudest. He jerked free a tiny explosive from his utility belt and fastened it to the door as he cautioned a quick "Stand Back." He shielded himself with his insulated cape, out of harms way.

In a matter of seconds the large silver door was blown off of its reinforced steel hinges. Removing the door and tossing it aside, he told the hostages to take the door to the right of him, for it would lead to the roof, and to wait for the police.

As they started to the roof, Batman rushed to a window, noticing members of the Vanelli gang racing out of the parking lot below. With use of his grapple, he quickly swooped down on top of the van and threw half a dozen small spikes from his utility belt on the road in front of the van. As the van coasted over them, the tires were slashed.

Within seconds, the van toppled over like a set of hard struck bowling pins. The Dark Knight heard police sirens coming towards them and carefully opened the back doors to expose the chemicals. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted a Gotham patrol car chasing Two-Face's van out of the plant's back parking lot.

Shooting his grapple gun to the roof of the plant, he descended from the top into a dark alley where the Batmobile stood directly before of him.

It was thirteen feet from tip to end. Black as night, the machine was a site to behold. A monstrous roar raged from the engine as the Dark Knight activated it via remote control. He hurried into the cockpit and as the door swiveled over his head to a close, he was off.

The car shot out of the back alley and picked up speed. Batman was quite upset that Two-Face and Vanelli had gotten away, and with toxic chemicals at that.

Harvey Two-Face was not known for working well with others, Batman knew and that somewhere along the way, Two-Face would double-cross or be double-crossed. Either way, things could get ugly.

_The question was, how ugly?_ The case puzzled the Dark Knight. _What's his angle?_ Batman wondered, as the sleek car raced up an on-ramp. He switched to autopilot and headed for home. He breathed a sigh of relief, as he knew the police would take over for the night.


	3. Part 1 Chapter 3

**Chapter 3 **

The following night, a few searchlights, crawling across the sky, illuminated Gotham's grand cityscape. One brightly lit probe, the Bat-Signal, sat perched high on top of police headquarters. As Lieutenant Harvey Bullock and Commissioner James Gordon waited impatiently for Batman's arrival, they speculated - rather argued - on how he would take the latest news.

Their wait wasn't long as the Dark Knight briskly leapt from above. Landing effortlessly behind the bat-shaped searchlight, he made his presence known. "Commissioner, I'm here. What's the problem?" he calmly asked his black cape swaying as he stalked directly to the men roughing it in the brisk altitude of the night air. Nearly jumping out of his skin, Bullock groaned heavily, startled by the Dark Knight's sudden appearance.

"Hi friend," the Commissioner retorted back, ignoring Bullock whom was clenching his fist in anger, "nice night, isn't it?" he started causally, stuffing his hands deep into his wool coat.

Before Batman could respond, Bullock piped up heatedly, claiming there was a riot at Arkham. "While you was screwin' 'round with those goons, and our boys were apprehendin' them, a riot broke out at Arkham. No one was hurt, luckily, just a few startled nurses and doctors."

"He's right Batman," the Commissioner confirmed. "Only it gets worse! There was another escape, Clayface and the Joker. No one knows yet what their plans are, if any. On top of it all our boys found Caesar Vanelli dead at the old Vanelli hideout. And before you ask, there is no sign of Two-Face either."

The Batman stayed quiet and was as still as the statues that decorated his city. The only movement from him was his cape as it danced in the wind. As he stood rigid like a gargoyle perched high on a gothic cathedral, his face was stern and menacing.

"Well what do ya' make of it Bats," Bullock posed as he lit up a thick cigar.

"It's no coincidence that Arkham and Axis shared misfortune in the same night," Batman began. "It had to be a diversion. The only reason their escape was so easy is because neither the police nor I were there to stop it. Weak security has plagued Arkham for years. I'm sure the inmates know it too," he divulged, folding his arms in thought. "I'd even bet that Two-Face and the other escapees are working together. Otherwise, I don't think they all would've escaped on the same night. It was planned. If about three-fourths of the police force and I were busy with Axis, they had the perfect opportunity. If my hunch is right," he grunted, grimacing, "the Joker and Two-Face are probably using Clayface for muscle," he finished.

"Well there's something else," The worried Commissioner continued. "A rare Faberge egg was stolen 3 nights ago from the Gotham Observatory. It was on loan from Metropolis."

"There's one man in the area that has a knack for collecting the rare and valuable. Perhaps, Mister Cobblepot might know something? The Penguin has proven clean since he was released one year ago from Stonegate. But we'll see."

"Good luck friend," the Commissioner said.

"Later Ratman," Bullock sarcastically remarked.

With that, Batman nodded his goodbyes to Gordon and flew over the edge of building, eager to continue his nightly patrol.

Later, at the Iceberg Lounge, one of Gotham's most popular nightspots, the crowd boomed with excitement. Dancing to the latest radio hits, the Dee Jay shifted to a slow song.

With a modern design, the abstract walls were painted in various shades of beige. Everything about the place was classy. The service at the bar was first class, and it was one of those places where every few seconds they would top off your cold drink if you so desired.

In the center of the nightspot was an Italian crafted fountain, with cascading falls filled with exotic fish. Solid ice sculptures positioned precisely inside the pool, bejeweled the exquisite fountain to unbelievable heights of splendor.

In one of the many VIP rooms sat the owner of the place, Oswald Cobblepot, alias, the _Penguin_.

As a young boy, the stout and awkward Oswald Cobblepot was easy prey for prep-school bullies. Having grown up in luxury, Oswald endured constant emotional and physical abuse from his unstable mother after his father died of pneumonia. Turning to crime as a teen, Oswald became addicted to the wealth and power of organized crime. Eventually growing tired of having his every scheme foiled, the penguin abandoned his criminal persona for a clean life as the owner of this respected nightclub.

Entertaining two of his favorite female acquaintances Oswald kindly offered, "As I have said before ladies, my club is your club. Please order anything on the menu and please, taste one of our finest wines". At that moment Oswald pulled out what appeared to be a bottle of

Merlot '27.

As an alarm sounded, Oswald jumped in surprise, accidentally spilling the expensive champagne down the dress of his beautiful companion. Instantly, a dark figure kicked in the back door. Standing tall and ominous, the Dark Knight rushed in.

"We need to talk Oswald," he demanded.

"Batman!" the rotund man exclaimed. "It has been a long time my winged friend. What can I do for you," he questioned as he motioned for his lady friends to go away.

As Batman was aware that they were alone, he continued in his usual gruff voice. "There has been a report of a rare and stolen egg from Gotham Observatory and since Catwoman is locked away -."

"Ah, say no more Batman, you suspect me of the theft. Well let me assure you, I just want to be left alone to run my business," he stated dignified, walking to a one-way window that overlooked the whole of the club. "I've spent too much time and money to just throw it away. The Iceberg Lounge is my legacy to Gotham, not the Penguin's foiled rampages. This here," he sighed, his gaze trailing from the fountain to the small probe lights positioned above the dance floor, "this is my new lot in life. And with that stated my dark friend," his voice turned defensive; "you're appearance is not good for business. If you continue to harass me I will have no other choice but to report you!" the man-bird threatened, raising his disfigured hand.

Batman didn't know why, but something inside of him was sure that his former foe was being honest. "I'll leave you alone then, but if anything comes up I may be back."

Batman exited and went to the nearby ally, where the Batmobile lied in wait. He jumped in and drove off. What Batman needed was clues to his latest foes whereabouts. He had been to every run down and abandoned comedy club in and around Gotham. Such locations were the Joker's usual hideouts. He was still unsure about Two-Face teaming up with the newest escapees from Arkham; he remained positive however, that the Joker and Clayface would join forces.

And what of the missing Faberge egg? He could tell Penguin didn't know. Two-Face was a possibility, but this matter remained a mystery that would have to wait. Batman had bigger things to worry about right now.

He glanced at the Batmobile's digital clock. It read 11:45 pm. It was time for him to return home. The Batmobile veered left and merged into Gotham Bowery. As the Batmobile hugged the roughly paved street, Batman noticed a young child, a little girl to the side. The car came to an abrupt stop, the door slid open and Batman quickly exited. He noticed she was crying.

"Are you alright," Batman inquired. There was no reply. She kept crying as if she was scared of something. "Come with me," Batman finally said with the intent to maybe take her to a local orphanage. As he reached for her hand she screamed a high-pitched scream that turned into a low monstrous bellow. Out of the corner of his eye Batman spied the Batmobile covered in what appeared to be mud. Puzzled, he finally realized what was happening.

The girl was gone and in her place was a large anatomically shaped mass of red mud. He reached to his utility belt for a vile of water. Before him stood the ultimate shape shifter, known only as Clayface.

In his younger days, actor Matthew Hagen had come into contact with an unknown alien substance that had been found by his then girlfriend. Once a lab technician working for the now defunct Daggett Industries in Gotham City, she died in a laboratory explosion after trying to bring him back to normal. Over time, he was driven insane. Since then he has become obsessed with murder.

"Batman, keep your pointy nose in your own business. Leave me alone. This is a warning."

"You need to go back to Arkham Clayface. Your much to dangerous to be out," the Dark Knight countered his statements, not backing down.

A few seconds later the monster came at him with full force. Batman quickly doused his enemy with the vile of chemically enhanced H20, as they engaged in unforgiving hand-to-hand combat. Batman met Clayface with an impressive uppercut, as Clayface countered with a blow to the stomach, nearly knocking the wind out of him. He then punched Clayface putting a fist shaped imprint into the monster's left shoulder. Clayface began to cover Batman's legs and as Batman was getting physically pulled into the monster, Clayface, began to feel weak. He threw Batman, forcing the Dark Knight into a collision with the Batmobile. After a few seconds, the formidable foe collapsed into a pile of mud.

As Batman regained focus, he gathered a sample of the substance, for later analysis and returned to the now filthy Batmobile. As the car began to roll away from the scene, Batman sighted Clayface sliding slowly into the drainage ditch, possibly needing to recuperate from the battle. Focusing on the road, he steered the roaring Batmobile away, finally in route for home.


	4. Part 1 Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

A few days later, Bruce Wayne was in his office high up in Wayne Tower in a meeting with Lucius Fox.

"Now Bruce," the broad shouldered black man started. "This business with Star Labs in Metropolis is bad news. Not to question their credibility or anything but why would they want our company to forge an alliance with Lex Luthor? We've dealt with him before. His power trip almost cost Wayne Enterprises two million dollars in the last fiscal year alone."

"Lucius, Star Labs knows that their budget is nowhere close to either Lex-Corp's or Wayne Enterprises'. The point is they need additional funding for their projects. I have faith in Star Labs. They know what they are doing as far as ideas for business are concerned. The only thing they lack is the financial strength and finesse to get the job done. Simply put Mr. Fox, they need better financial advisement. And I hope they won't have you anytime soon," Bruce chuckled. "But don't worry regardless of what the good people at Star Labs want; Wayne Enterprises won't touch Lex Luthor or his crooked company. I terminated our temporary partnership for a reason"

"Sir, he is the most powerful man in Metropolis. Even though I agree that we shouldn't do business with Luthor, it could be good to at least throw a little funding towards Star Labs for Lex-Corp to play with. That would give them something to work with plus it would look good to the public."

"You might have a point Lucius," Bruce continued as his secretary beeped in. "What is it Margaret?" Bruce enquired.

"Sir, Mr. Pennyworth is on Line One," she announced then signed off as Lucius Fox stood from his leather bound chair and retreated to the door.

"We'll talk later Bruce," Lucius said as he quietly exited the large office.

Bruce waved a steady hand and attended to Alfred's business over the phone. "Yes Alfred what is it? I was in a meeting."

"Terribly sorry to bother you sir, but I have some rather distressing news. There has been a robbery at the First National Bank in Gotham Square. Witnesses reported seeing a group of men in trench coats walking into the bank, then moments later loading several bags of money into an armored van and speeding away -."

"Hired henchmen no doubt," Bruce interrupted as he started getting uneasy.

"Quite so Sir, but might there be a connection between the burglary and the inmates from Arkham?"

"You have a point Alfred, it would make since that the thugs be working for the Joker and Clayface. I wonder if they plan working with Two-Face? If so, then my original hunch is correct." Bruce said sure of himself. "If the three of them are to work together, they will no doubt need the cash. That would explain the robbery. Alfred, how long ago did the robbery occur?

"The news broadcast said about 2:30 pm; the time now being near three Sir," he supplied, checking his watch.

"Did anyone see where they were headed?" Bruce asked.

"No sir."

"Thank you Alfred, I'll be right home. It looks as if I might have a busy night ahead."

"Indeed Sir," Alfred said hanging up the phone.

Hours had past, with Bruce brooding in the dank Batcave. He sat working over the central computer in deep concentration. "Alfred, I must tell you, I'm not quite sure what my next move will be," he said as he turned toward his butler. "The only way to bring them down is to find their hideout. And it won't be easy. Two-Face no doubt has their place crawling with guards, the Joker, has probably made sure that the hideout is a place Batman wouldn't look. And on top of it all there is still Clayface to deal with," he listed off. "I encountered him the other night and it wasn't very easy. He seemed stronger than usual. He tossed me like a bag of sugar onto the Batmobile."

"Sugar? I thought that was mud I cleaned off the Batmobile?" Alfred teased genially. "Perhaps I should load your utility belt heavier tonight Sir," he continued with a chuckle.

"Don't bother Alfred, I won't be out for a while," Bruce said as he finally caught on Alfred's remark.

"I thought you were planning on going out tonight Sir. What about your nightly patrol?" the confused butler said.

"Trying to get rid of me Alfred?"

"Sir?" Alfred wondered what his master was talking about.

"I too can joke Alfred," he laughed, focusing back on the computer. "I'll be out there soon; for now, I'm going over these files that Commissioner Gordon sent to me about the Arkham security breach."

"Very good Sir, and what of your finding from the road last night?"

"Ah that," Bruce stated, surprised at Alfred for mentioning. "Not much, just a simple protoplasmic compound. It would seem our friend Matthew Hagen is becoming less human as time goes by. I've been researching both his genetic and chemical make up. It also turns out that a cure for his reaction to the substance that made him this way had been found. But the cure was lost in a chemical fire at Daggett Industries about a year ago. About six months after the fire, they filed for bankruptcy and it's a good thing if you ask me. That company gave both Batman and Wayne Enterprises problems. No one has seen or heard from its founder, Roland Daggett since -."

"Master Bruce, Alfred hastily interrupted."

"What is it Alfred?"

"Someone is here, at the door upstairs," he responded, turning to leave, taking the stairs as Bruce checked out the surveillance cameras on the central computer, seeing Commissioner Gordon waiting on the outside.

Quickly shutting down the cave, he hurried behind Alfred, up the menacing gothic stairway.

Alfred hastily answered the door as Bruce sealed up the cave. In walked Commissioner Gordon. He stood tall with his long black overcoat surrounding him as his black, thick rimmed glasses protruded slightly over his nose. Knowing Jim personally since the night of his parents' murder, he had grown close to the former lieutenant and over the years, considered him one of fondest friends, as both Bruce and Batman.

"Sorry to bother you at such a late hour Bruce. Do you have a minute?"

Bruce nodded at the Commissioner's question and invited him into the spacious living area just beyond the front entrance as the two men took a seat on the dark leather Sofa directly in front of a large fireplace.

"How are things Commissioner?" Bruce wondered.

"Bruce I am afraid I have some bad news," the Commissioner said trying to sound as serious as possible. "There has been a kidnapping. I'm afraid it's your advisor, Lucius Fox. The captors also sent a ransom note," he added quickly, handing Bruce the envelope. Worriedly opening the message, Bruce read silently to himself:

"BRUCE, AS I WAS DRIVING HOME FROM WORK, I WAS NABBED BY THE CRIMINAL ELEMENT. PLEASE MEET ME AND TWO-FACE AT GOTHAM PEER TONIGHT AT MIDNIGHT. BRING $10 MILLION DOLLARS To GUARANTEE MY SAFETY. COME ALONE."

- LUCIUS

Bruce read the letter and handed it back to Gordon. "Well Commissioner?" he calmly stated. "It looks like I have no choice. I can't have Wayne Enterprises chief advisor out there getting involved in who knows what. I will have to meet their demands. I will stop by my office to get a secret stash that I keep for emergencies just like this one. You can never be to careful Commissioner."

"Thank you for your time Bruce. Let me know if there is anything that the police can do on our end. If your money falls into the wrong hands, we will do everything in our power to return it to you. And good luck to you."

"Thanks a lot Commissioner. I will call you if I need anything," the young playboy announced, knowing full well that Batman would do just fine on his own.

As the Commissioner walked out the door, Bruce prepared to go to Wayne Tower. He grabbed his overcoat hanging from the antique coat hanger to the far right of the door and headed for his garage. As he opened the garage door, he walked past a row of old exotic cars and entered his 1977 S-Class Bentley. As the automobile started up, he knew his meeting with Two-Face would be a considerable break in the case. He smiled to himself as the car drifted out of the garage, for Bruce had a plan.


	5. Part 1 Chapter 5

Chapter 5

It was a gloomy night as Bruce pulled up to the docks at Gotham Peer. He saw the Visitor's Center sandwiched between the black peer and what Bruce recognized as Two-Face's half black, half white armored van. Then what he saw took him by surprise. His trusted advisor Lucius Fox was bound and gagged to a wide pew-like bench directly in front of the Visitor's Center. He glanced at his Swiss watch, which read 11:57 pm. He knew negotiating wouldn't work, but to attempt it might buy him some time, in case the situation became dire.

As Bruce stepped out of the car with the briefcase in tow, he could feel the gravel crack under his feet as he started moving toward Lucius. "It's okay Lucius, everything will be alright. Just hold on," he told his friend inching closer.

Within feet of reaching him, a dark, grotesque figure jumped out from behind the armored van.

"Hello Bruce," Two-Face said, standing so that his scarred side shimmered hideously in the moonlight.

"Harvey, it's been a while," Bruce supplied, buying time. "Here's the money – ten mill," he offered confidently, "but you won't see a single, crisp bill until Mister Fox is safe with me," he continued with no intention of letting the criminal touch it.

"Were you expecting an even trade old friend? You know me better than that," Two-Face harshly stated as Bruce noticed five heavily armed henchmen appear from behind the van.

"If I don't get what I want, then what you came for will be dumped over the peer," the debonair playboy tried to convincingly threaten.

"Hand over the money? You don't want any trouble do you?" he groaned heatedly as he motioned at a goon.

Just then one of the goons stepped behind Lucius and put the bulky assault rifle to the back of his skull.

"You give me the money, or your friend here gets to swim in his own blood," Two-Face warned.

As quick as lightening, Bruce seeing that he had run out of options, opened his car door, threw in the bulky attaché case. . Hitting the auto-lock and slamming the door shut, he darted for the water as he heard Two-Face bellow behind him, resulting in gunshots firing his way. With every step, a projectile followed his movement, one even nicking his right shoe. With a quick jump and not a second glance back, Bruce dove headfirst into the water.

"After him! Blow off his damn head!" Two-Face shouted his demand as several goons raced to the side of the peer, firing their guns into the murky water below. "Get the money!" Harvey then yelled as the gunfire soon subsided.

Obeying his leader, a thug dressed in all black bashed in the rear window of the Bentley with the butt of his gun. As he grabbed the case of money, the van started from behind. As the remaining goons jumped in the back, Lucius was snatched from his post and tossed in beside of Two-Face. The van waited momentarily for the last hoodlum with the money. As he quickly joined the group, the back door of the van closed with a violent slam.

As the car started away, a menacing black and gray figure emerged from behind the peer. It was Batman. Quickly over the peer he leapt, in pursuit of the van. In a flash, his hands crossed to his utility belt, pulling out a small signal tracer. With a quick toss, it locked onto the van as it skidded away from the scene.

He pulled a small black radio emitter from his belt and turned it on. Sure enough, a dot moved across the tiny bat-shaped radar screen. The Batman grimly smiled, as he knew he had his target.

As Batman headed back to the damaged Bentley, he quickly glanced around him and saw nothing but the night sky. Pulling out three tiny smoke bombs from his belt, he pitched them strategically so that a thick veil of smoke would surround both him and the car. Once the smoke suitably clouded the night air, Batman jumped in the car. As the air cleared, Bruce sped the car away from the docks.

On the way home, Bruce, who had removed his cape and cowl, pondered. Now that he had positively identified their hideout, he had to plan his next move carefully. They had Lucius and the counterfeit money that Bruce had personally made for an occasion such as the one that had just occurred. He debated on whether or not to continue or simply retire for the night. Both options involved him returning to Wayne Manner. Even if he would continue he had to exchange vehicles. He smirked at the thought of trading the slightly damaged luxury sedan for the awesome power of the Batmobile. With that he had made his decision. Even though it was late, and he did have the so-called important business meeting tomorrow at his rival company Goth-Corp, he yearned to, if nothing else, at least get Lucius back to safety.

As he pulled into Wayne Manor, the gate closing behind him, he pressed the garage door opener and pulled the car inside. As he exited the garage, and entered the house, Alfred had dosed off by the fireplace in the living area. With a quick yell towards the servant Bruce awoke the poor man. As Alfred came to his feet, a puzzled look came over him.

"Sorry Sir, I awaited your return and must have dosed off. May I inquire why you are in the Bat-Suit? I take it everything did not go as planned." the confused butler asked.

"It's been a long night," was all he retorted back. "However, I'm not finished. Is everything ready?"

"Quite so Sir," Alfred declared, responding to his master's query about the Batcave.

As Bruce opened the Batcave's entrance in his study, he rushed down the shadowy staircase. He finally felt at home as the cold darkness consumed him. With a quick dash to the central computer, he input some data as Alfred reloaded his trusty utility belt. As soon as Batman fastened the armed restraint to his waste, he hurdled into the Batmobile.

With a push of a button, a rotating massive turntable that housed the vehicle switched to 'Exit Mode'; once the car's rear turbine's fired up, the Dark Knight sped off in a blaze of fury!

On his way to the newly discovered hideout, Batman drove to the Monarch Theater. This was his usual spot he checked first every night during his patrol. As the Batmobile parked just outside the Theater, he exited the big black vehicle. He quickly progressed to the nook of Crime Alley.

As he peaked in, he saw a man and woman arguing. Not having time to deal with a domestic dispute, he quietly stalked behind a fire escape as he nevertheless listened in.

The kid was a hothead, very hostile, Batman easily realized as the brute grabbed his partner, throwing her against a metal trashcan. Waiting for the opportune moment, Batman remained hidden in the night.

The leather-clad thug was just like any other thug that crept about this late at night. The guy looked about eighteen or so and the girl, of about the same age, looked as if she needed help. Dressed in her own leather jacket and short skirt, the guy she was with could easily take advantage.

As the thug proceeded to get on top of her, she screamed for help. "You should listen to me when I tell you to do something," he violently stated to her, raising his hand to smack her across the face.

Before his hand could land hard against her cheek, a batarang sprang from the darkness shattering a dimly lit streetlight at the edge of the alley. Suddenly, everything went black.

"What the Hell?" the frightened kid grunted as he stood up, reaching for a small pistol in his inner jacket pocket.

"What's goin' on Johnny?" the nervous girl asked, struggling to stand in her heels on the rocky pavement.

"I dunno, shut the hell up," he ordered. Just then, they heard noises from up above. As the pair looked above them, Batman stood high on a fire escape, with his cape spread like huge batwings.

Seconds passed as the looming figure jumped from his perch, landing next to the startled man whom lost his gun amidst the excitement. As the thug stepped back in fear, he grabbed the girl, placing his arm around her neck.

"Let the girl go," the cloaked figure announced dangerously, "or I'm going to get very grumpy."

"Sure thing Mister Batman, Sir. I'll – I'll let her go. I – I swear, I swear it," the kid sputtered, his words slurring together. Keeping his arm around her neck for a few seconds longer, he slowly relaxed his grip, coming to terms with the situation.

As the girl stumbled backwards out of harm's way, Batman slammed the kid against the graffiti wall, whispering something harsh in his ears. As the kid's eyes widen, Batman threw him on the ground in haste.


	6. Part 1 Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

In a large abandoned brick warehouse, in the Kubrick District of Gotham City, a van pulled into an entryway on the far side of the building. As its occupants stepped out, commotion ensued.

Two-Face, why'd we have to bring this old man along? He'll only get in the way," a heavily armed guard complained.

"Do your job, don't ask questions. Doesn't everyone agree?" Two-Face shouted impatiently to the other two guards as he put his pistol to the man's chin.

The guards whom encircled the two nodded promptly, agreeing that asking questions meant the ultimate sacrifice: death.

As the men walked towards an elevator they dragged Lucius Fox who was now standing on two feet, hands bound behind him.

As the men stepped out, onto the second floor of the massive complex, the Clown Prince of Crime, the one and only Joker greeted them.

"Glad your back gentleman. I was getting a bit worried," Joker said in a goofy voice.

"Ah Harvey old boy, tell me, did we get the money we need to set up our wonderful new operations?" the Joker said stepping out of a lone shadowy corner.

"Don't worry Joker it's here. And we got to keep the bait as well just like we agreed," Two-Face proudly reported.

"Ah Lucius, how ya' been old chum'. We haven't really had a chance to talk since your unfortunate kidnapping. It's been years. How's Bruce? Are you still his pigeon or has he promoted you yet?" the former District Attorney asked.

Lucius stood his ground, secretly fearing for his life. "Harvey, you tell these men to let me go huh? What do ya' say? You got your money, just let me go damn it."

"Patience my nervous friend," the Joker retorted. "We still have plenty to do with you."

Just then a goon came off the elevator. As he walked up to the Clown Prince of Crime, he quickly stated, "Joker Sir, we have a problem. There was something on the back of the van." The goon held out the small tracer that Batman had placed there.

"What does it mean Sir?" the goon questioned.

Two-Face examined it and shot a worried look at the Joker. "Damn it Clown, is that what I think it is? It's impossible. Batman wasn't there, it was Wayne and us. There was no sign of Batman."

"Well, regardless Harvey, you might have been set up," the Joker said, turning straight-faced.

"I brought the money, kept the bait and we got away. But what do ya' suppose tipped the Batman off?" inquired the half man, half monster

The Joker stood, deep in thought. "I know what happened, the Joker half screamed as if losing his mind. "Harvey, you wrote the ransom-note, and then we sent it to the cops. They probably tipped off the Batman before they showed it to Bruce Wayne."

"It makes sense Joker," Two-Face claimed. "If Batman's onto us it makes sense. Batman was also involved in that brawl with Clayface. The one that weakened him."

"Clayface!" the Joker yelped half mad. "Where is that delicious blob of pudding?"

At that moment, a thick brownish substance came dripping through the ceiling. As it hit the floor, it formed into a disproportioned anatomic shape.

"Speak of the Devil," Joker laughed, slapping his leg in amusement.

"Gentlemen," the shape spoke in a choppy whisper. "As I slept upstairs, I had a dream about Wayne Enterprises. After recovering from my battle with the Bat, I realized in the dream that I could infiltrate the Wayne foundation," he revealed.

"What are you talking about Clayface?" Two-Face asked with a sigh.

"The Wayne vault stores millions. I can become anyone and go anywhere," Clayface continued.

"It won't work puddin'," the Joker said rather cynically.

"Picture this, I go in as a security guard, get the security clearance, snatch the dough and get out without any detection," the mud monster heartily declared.

"You mean rob 'em blind?" Two-Face caught on to the idea.

Finally Lucius Fox broke, hearing enough. Marching into Joker's face, he began to shout, somewhat hysterical, "No damn it, I've worked too hard for anything to happen to Wayne Enterprises! Somehow you will all be stopped! A deficit of any sort could be trouble for all of Gotham. You don't know the importance that the Wayne Foundation is to the city..." he trailed off, his throat scratchy and sore.

"Ah, you see Lucius my boy," the Joker started as he shoved the businessman to the floor with a hard thud. "The three of us," he waved his arms in reference to his accomplices, "collaborated on the idea while rotting away in Arkham. Two-Face had been plotting his escape for months and it was my connections that involved the small-time gangster, Caesar Vanelli, in that chemical trade diversion. Once Harvey and ol' Vanelli had Batman and the police busy, Clayface started a riot during a routine prison transfer. After we had broken out, Vanelli was no longer needed, so Mister Two-Face here strangled the old sucker to death with a chain!" he cackled abrasively, eyes dazzling in lunacy. "We then took his money but it wasn't near enough; then thankfully… it happened," he sighed happily, smiling with a ridiculous sick grin. "What happened? Lucius asked.

"We consummated our fiendish union. We now have enough money to start the largest Criminal Organization that Gotham's ever known," he shouted, throwing his arms in the stale air with glee. Patting Lucius on the head, he continued, "Thanks to the money that Harvey received after his boys pawned that stupid egg. And this briefcase, Too bad we can't thank Brucie for this personally," he said as he clicked open the locks on the case. "Counterfeit!" the Joker exclaimed.

As Two-Face and Clayface looked at each other, Harvey wondered.

"What? Are you sure it ain't real dough?"

Clayface began to threaten. "If I ever get a hold of Bruce Wayne, he will be sorry that he ever breathed. Millionaire scum."

"He played us for fools Clown, now we're gonna have to take it out on Mr. Fox," Two-Face said half smiling.

"You're mad," Lucius said as he backed away in fright.

A henchman pointed his sub-machine pistol directly at him as Lucius froze in panic.

Not a moment too soon, the elevator gave a loud ding, as the large doors flew open. Out, charged the Batman. He was in top form as a stun grenade flew from his hands and hit the floor.

Suddenly a flash of blinding light compacted by a deafening boom filled the room. As the armed goons were now disoriented, Batman met each with brute force causing them to lose their semi-automatic weapons.

The guards immediately ran toward the elevator, as Lucius ran to a far corner in the vicinity and tried to stay out of sight. Batman grabbed one and gave an effective left hook. Just as the bloodied henchman hit the ground, the Joker pulled out his signature weapon, a silver Smith Wesson revolver. As he aimed it and fired, Batman dove, throwing a batarang. It missed as the Joker somersaulted and fired another shot. "I thought you had guards downstairs Harvey," the maniacal Joker croaked starting to get annoyed.

"Not anymore Gentlemen," Batman muttered, leaping behind a wooden crate as the Joker fired again.

Clayface shot his arms out towards the crate in which Batman sought shelter, slinging it effortlessly across the room. In a fury of sludge, his arms flew, aiming for the Dark Knight whom barreled over the huge protoplasm with an impressive leap. Clayface retaliated, striking again and this time he rendered the Bat unconscious. The Dark Knight hit the ground with an exhausting thud. Clayface turned him over with a heavy kick and proceeded to unmask his catch.

"Noooooo!" the Joker bellowed out, racing towards the heap of mud. "Leave the Bat's mask on," he continued with great authority.

"Clown, we've done it," argued Two-Face, "he'll be no more once we put a couple rounds in him," he declared, cocking his pistol.

"You leave that to me Harvey," the Joker exclaimed as a great grin bestowed over his ruby lips. The Joker proceeded to take his revolver and point it at Batman's head. As he began to pull the trigger, a loud shout boomed from behind.

"FREEZE!" came a loud, gruff voice at the other end of the large room.

As the three super-villains turned around, Detective Renee Montoya, Lieutenant Harvey Bullock and what appeared to be an entire squad of officers stood at the other side of the large room.

Without hesitation, Joker fired at the head of his mortal enemy anyway. The gun stalled as two clicks sounded the empty weapon. He pulled out an even larger gun and immediately Two-Face drew fire at the entire squad of officers. As he and Joker ran quickly to the right of the room and dove behind a large overturned table, still firing.

As they continued to fire at the police, Clayface moved closer as the police began firing at him. "HahaHa hahHa haHa," he laughed as bits of clay began flying from him. With a swift mighty stroke, he forced himself onto the unsuspecting crowd of police.

As Joker and Two-Face attempted to flee, Clayface covered half the police force with his protoplasm. Harvey Bullock aimed and fired a shot that hit Two Face in the thigh.

As the remainder of the police force began dousing Clayface with a chemical compound similar to the one Batman had used before, he began to succumb to their efforts. As Batman slowly regained consciousness, he noticed Bullock apprehending and arresting Harvey Dent alias Two-Face. He then looked over to Clayface as he stood on two feet. He noticed the mud-monster was on the verge of collapse. He quickly retrieved a liquid chemical from his belt that he had synthesized in the Batcave earlier that night. He handed it to Detective Montoya with instructions to pour generously over the monster, once he buckled from pressure. With that, Harvey Bullock rushed over to Batman.

"What good are you Bat's… asleep on the floor while we're doin' all the damn work."

Ignoring the arrogant cop and confident that the two super-foes would be dealt with properly by the GCPD, Batman raced to a large trap door across the room that he had seen the Joker exit from. As he opened it, he jumped into the cold darkness as the heavy door slammed behind him.


	7. Part 1 Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

As Batman felt the trap door close over his head, his feet found no bearing. The only thing suspending him was his hand on the handle of the door. He couldn't see anything through the pitched dark. He quickly braced both feet on opposite sides of the wall. He knew the Joker probably fell and was far ahead of him by now.

With a quick decision, he let himself go. He plummeted fast through the darkness. He kept falling for what seemed like minutes. When he finally landed, he was still in pitched darkness. With a quick flick of his utility belt, the night vision lenses built into his cowl went over his eyes. He saw a long corridor. He raced down the corridor and began to hear laughter. He knew then that the Clown Prince of Crime was close. As he turned the corner, he saw the Joker running up a long, wide flight of stairs. Could they lead back to the warehouse complex or possibly outside?

As Batman heard more and more laughter, he wondered if the Joker was leading him into a trap or was this just some sadistic game? As he reached the top of the stairs, he came to a floor, similar to the one that he had just been on with the police before the Joker's untimely escape.

_A third floor perhaps _he thought as he followed the Joker up yet another flight of stairs.

He got to the top and all of a sudden, the joker was gone. He had lost him.

As he came to a narrow entryway of what was yet another flight of stairs he noticed a door at the top was ajar. He quickly scaled the narrow stairwell. As he got to the top and rushed out the door he was outside. As he noticed his surroundings, he realized that he was on the roof of the warehouse complex. He quickly looked over to the right of him and saw the Joker standing at the edge of the roof.

"I'll do it Batman. I'll really do it. Hee Hee. Haa Haa Hoo Hee. Ya' know Batman, I think my life is just so unbearable right now. Why with Clayface captured and Harvey injured by that fat washed up detective man, I think it's just gotten to be too much," the mad man exclaimed with a hint of sarcasm in his voice.

"Joker, don't do it."

"Oh what do you care old pointy ears? You'd love to see me die. Well ya' know what Batsy, today you get your wish my old pal. Your life won't be much without me around," he said taking a careless drop off the ten-story building.

"Jokeeeerrrrr," Batman screamed with concern. The Dark Knight couldn't believe the Joker had actually driven himself this mad. He paused a moment in utter shock and as he approached the edge, he heard a machine-like chopping noise.

He backed up from the ledge and realized that even the Joker wasn't stupid enough to take his own life. Just then a monstrous red helicopter appeared beyond the complex. As the craft was gaining altitude, Batman could see the Joker climbing in. As he got completely inside, he closed the chopper door. With that, the helicopter was off. Batman shot a grapple upward but to no avail. The grapple line wasn't long enough. It looked like the Joker was going to get away.

Just then, Batman used his cellular receiver from his belt. "Commissioner, do you read me?"

"Go ahead Batman," Gordon said from the other end

"The Joker is flying away in a red chopper, from the old Grayville Warehouse Complex. He's heading east. Can you track him?"

"We could try…" Gordon trailed off. "Yeah we've got one of our detectives sending a police chopper after it right now."

"Good. I'll rendezvous with you at the headquarters. If your men can track him I'll be able to apprehend him later."

"Alright Batman I'll be waiting for you here at headquarters."

"Right," said Batman ending their conversation. As he looked out over the edge of the building, with not a moment's notice, he was off. As, he jumped off the rooftop, he half glided and half fell a few stories down, then finally grasping his cape, he shifted into full parachuting form and hit the ground.

Moments later the Batmobile drove up to the side of the street to collect the Dark Knight. He climbed into the cockpit in route to police headquarters. By now, the night had turned into an early Gotham City morning.

* * *

As Commissioner Gordon sat doing some work at police headquarters, a figure lingered outside his third story office window.

"What took you so long my friend?" Gordon said as Batman came through the window.

"Busy Morning Jim," the Batman retorted. "Is Dent back in Arkham?"

"Yup, he'll be in the medical wing though for about four weeks. Bullock got him pretty good."

"And Clayface?" the Batman wondered.

"He's back where he belongs too. He's a tough one to hold though. You gotta watch out for those meta-humans. But hey, not a bad night's work, huh friend. We've got Dent and Clayface back in Arkham, the missing Faberge turned up at a local trade store. Some of Dent's boys got some major dough for it. All those guys are in jail too. Lucius Fox is glad to be out of harm's way again. I imagine his employer will be glad to hear of his safe return tomorrow. "I -."

Just then a black phone rang loudly on Gordon's desk.

"Hello," the first-rate cop said picking up the receiver. "What, what do you mean? He just busted out of Arkham Asylum days ago for God sake. How does he have that kind of technology? Well I don't care what it takes I want him found," the Commissioner said angrily as he slammed down the phone.

"Well Batman, it looks like the Joker sent out an electro-magnetic pulse across the city. Most of our tracking equipment and radar is useless now." As the Commissioner turned around in his chair he noticed he was alone. _The Batman probably heard the whole conversation and left. Happens all the time _he thought as he turned around and continued his paperwork.

* * *

Hours later, at about 10:00 am, after having read the morning paper and seeing the outcome of Batman's latest capture over a cup of coffee, Bruce Wayne was in his office preparing for his trip to Goth-Corp for the day's meeting. As he grabbed his briefcase and headed out of his office, Lucius Fox stopped him in his tracks.

"Bruce, knock 'em dead with those figures we went over. Ferris Boyle will love what you have to say. At least he better. I didn't work on those reports for two weeks for nothing. Ya' know I always thought Mr. Boyle was kind of a crook. He is a very shady character. I -."

"Lucius it's great to have my number one man back and out of harms way, but if you don't mind I'm running late here."

"Sorry Bruce. Let me know how it goes!"

As Bruce finally made his way to the elevator, his bothersome secretary came up behind him.

"Bruce, a Mrs. Tomberlin from Arkham Asylum has been calling all morning? She requests a courtesy meeting for Harvey Dent. I told her you'd call her. Of course I know you'll cancel but I just -."

"It sounds fine. Even though it's strange that he was apprehended just last night and they already want the charity. I'll go as long as there is no media coverage of any kind. Make sure you let Arkham know that it is a personal thing. No media coverage! Yeah, I'd love to see Harvey again. But listen, I'm off to the meeting at Goth-Corp," he hurriedly stated trying to get away.

As he hopped into his blue 1978 Lotus Esprit he chuckled to himself knowing that his meeting would go over well if he impressed Ferris Boyle, the President/CEO of Goth-Corp, with this higher priced, much sportier automobile. As he pulled away from Wayne Tower, he knew his meeting would be rushed, for he had to get home and make plans for the night.


	8. Part 1 Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

A few days later, Bruce Wayne was reading a business journal, while sitting in the lobby of the medical wing at Arkham Asylum. It was just starting to rain, as a woman dressed in a pale blue nurse's outfit came out of a large steel door adjacent to the sitting area.

"Mr. Wayne, if you'll follow me please." The nurse calmly ordered.

As Bruce followed through the long corridor leading to the medic rooms, he had recognized the place. He visited the facility once as Batman, after he threw the Joker from atop a two-story building. The medical wing was surprising. It was a very bright, odd place. The walls were a vivid white, and the rooms were very clean. This was a stark contrast to the black cells and dark walls in the psychiatric wing. As he came to the last room on the right, he noticed Harvey Dent alias Two-Face half coherent lying in an oversized hospital bed. The nurse stepped back as Bruce stood beside the bed.

"Harvey, I'm here Harv," Bruce said in a concerned tone.

"Bruce. Bruce Wayne. How ya' doin' old pal?" the former D.A. said in a rough voice.

"Hi Harv. I just came by to see how you were doing. I suspect the good people of Arkham Asylum wanted a media circus. This is the first time the good people from here actually called my office to set up a meeting with an inmate. No friend, before you say anything I just wanted to do this as a personal favor. It was all over the paper that Batman busted you so I thought I would see how Harvey was."

"Harvey's fine Bruce, there's just one problem. Harvey's not here anymore."

"Oh I -." The nurse interrupted Bruce immediately.

"Mr Wayne you better leave. I think things are about to get very interesting." The nurse said as she gave Harvey a shot of Thorazine.

"Sure uh well thank you," Bruce said as he clumsily stumbled out of the room, unsure of what motivated him to visit his old friend turned Batman's nemesis in the first place. Maybe he was doing it out of obsession. Perhaps he needed to see for himself that the murderous, maniacal Two-Face was indeed captured. Or maybe he still felt guilty for not being able to save his friend from the horrible accident that did this to him. Either way, he knew that this was one less problem that Batman had to deal with.

As Bruce left the medical wing at Arkham, he quickly got into his Alfa Romeo and drove away. He pulled onto the Robinson Freeway in route to Wayne Manor.

* * *

A few nights later, in the darkness of the Batcave, Batman sat typing a report he was doing for the police. In it he had detailed his past encounters with the Joker as well as various ideas on how to bring him down. Batman was going to meet his psychiatrist at Arkham for a deeper look inside the mind of the criminal.

"Alfred, I am sending this report on the Joker through to the police. We need to collaborate with anyone who may have dealt with him. Gordon wants to bring in the D.A. who prosecuted the Joker during his last capture a year ago. I voted against it. It has been nearly two weeks that both the police and I have been searching and neither party has gotten so much as one lead."

"Sir, with all do respect, the Joker is counting on you to not know where he is. It gives him time to devise his plan."

"You think I don't know that," Batman raised his voice in frustration. "With any luck, what Gordon and I come up with will bring the Joker down."

"I'm going to go see what I can find."

"Very good Sir."

As soon as Alfred's words were uttered, the Batmobile switched into exit mode and Batman jumped in. As the door of the impressive car came to a close, the atomic batteries started. Then as the rear turbines activated it took off rapidly.

As the Batmobile raced out of the vicinity of Wayne Manner, Batman wondered where to head first. He then considered a place called _The Laff Riot_. It was an old comedy club, on the north side of Gotham, that the Joker got his start at, before he was the Joker. It had since been shut down, and the Joker used it as a hideout for an early part of his career. This was the reason Batman thought he might find something that would help his investigation.

Batman careened toward a junction that took him to the north side of the city. It was practically pitched black. It was nights like this that inspired young men to dawn the mantle of a vigilante hero. It was as if crime permeated the air. Batman could feel it. He felt as if he was heading in the right direction. As if soon the Joker would be in his grasp.

The Batmobile came upon a lone street with decrepit buildings and dilapidated signs. Suddenly the car came to a complete stop. Batman sighed as he exited the Batmobile hoping his investigation was going in the right direction.

He came upon the entrance of the place. A large boarded up frail door with a "KEEP OUT" sign hanging there stood in his way. He took a laser cutter from his utility belt and ran it across the door's perimeter. As he kicked in the entrance, his eyes quickly adjusted to complete darkness. He quickly removed a miniature flashlight from his utility belt, which he place upon his finger.

As he flashed the finger-light around the room, he viewed old magazines on a battered table and holes in the walls of the place. A rank and musty odor came over him. He thought someone might have died there, but no corpses were visible.

He entered a room, with a few boarded up windows, an old desk that had been smashed in and a few gray file cabinets. He proceeded to open one of them and found a few profiles of different comedians, and some old props that were used in various stage acts. He spotted nothing out of the ordinary. As he made his rounds through the rest of the place, he continued to find nothing he could use. He began to doubt his hunch.

As he kept searching, he began to hear a faint noise. As he listened closely, a ticking resonated from a different room. As he realized it was a bomb coming from underneath the main stage of the club, he panicked.

Hurriedly, he dashed out of the place. He had barely made it out as the explosive went off.

_BOOM!_

As the massive explosion occurred, he shielded himself in his cape, hiding behind the Batmobile for protection. He knew then, that the Joker had recently been there. And whatever clues could have been found had just gone up in a blazing inferno. _Maybe he knew I would come here. Could he possibly have set a motion-activated time bomb for me?_ Batman wondered.

After collecting himself, the Dark Knight jumped into his vehicle. He peeked at the car's clock. It read 11:30 pm. He drove to an off-ramp taking him to the R.H. Kane Freeway in route to Arkham Asylum.


	9. Part 1 Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

The Batmobile turned into the long winding road that led to Arkham. As Batman reached the large gothic style gate, it opened and the Batmobile pulled in. He drove behind the hospital and pulled into an empty parking space.

As he exited the car, the Joker's psychiatrist, Doctor Samuel Griffin was watching from a window high above the parking lot. He sighed, as he knew why Batman had shown up. He didn't like the Batman because he thought he was the epitome of insane. He thought of Batman as a man driven to insanity by obsession.

He began to walk to his office. As he entered his office, he proceeded to open the window that was farthest to the wall, knowing that would serve as the Dark Knight's entrance.

Batman suddenly appeared with a stern, mean look on his face.

"Hello. I've been wondering when you would show up. Where have you been for the past 6 hours?" the doctor questioned.

"I've been on the trail of the Joker. That's why I'm here. I want to talk to you about him. You know him better than anyone else," Batman acknowledged.

"You say you've been on his trail. He called me from an unknown area about three hours ago. He told me he was out on a crime spree and for some reason asked me if I had heard from you."

"Did you trace his call or alert the police?" Batman asked.

"We tried to trace his call without success and yes we notified Gordon and a few of his detectives," the doctor bluntly stated.

"If he's out, the police should be able to find him. Did he say anything else?"

"No he didn't. Well are you going to give me the business Batman, or do you want to go find our man?"

"I've been looking and I was nearly caught in an explosion earlier. I have been searching for weeks with no leads. I will get back to you Doctor, You've been a lot of help" Batman gruffly stated in a sarcastic tone as he noticed the Bat-Signal waving outside the window.

He leapt out the window as the doctor watched him return to the Batmobile.

"Of course. You'll get back to me. You psychotic piece of shit! If it wasn't for you Arkham wouldn't have to exist. This city wouldn't be so bent," the doctor said to himself as he watched Batman drive away.

* * *

Commissioner Gordon waited alone, atop police headquarters for the Dark Knight as he finally leapt up behind the blinding light of the Bat-Signal.

"Batman! Have you heard? The Joker is out there on a crime spree. He has killed two people and he injured a busload of passengers near Grant Park in Gotham," the Commissioner began as soon as he noticed the Dark Knight's arrival.

"Not to mention me. I was researching one of his old hideouts earlier and barely made it out alive. A time bomb went off."

"Yeah well it looks like we might have got 'em for good this time friend," Gordon said proudly.

"Jim, there is no such thing as permanent capture in this city. That's why I'm here."

"Yeah well listen," the Commissioner said getting a bit irritated. He didn't want to believe that his city needed a vigilante hero. "We got one of our best, following a lead he picked up. It leads to the Joker's hideout. And it's no wonder we haven't found him yet. He's not even here," the Commissioner said surprisingly.

"Not here? Then how did he kill those people in Grant Park and how did he know to set that bomb? He questioned as he caught onto the Commissioner's meaning.

"It turns out he's been evading us all along, in Bludhaven. He knew that even you had your territorial limits. He figured as long as you couldn't find him, then neither could we. It seems that tonight, he has come back to Gotham, for whatever reason for a surprise attack."

Bludhaven exists as a much smaller city to the north of Gotham. A former whaling town, it is an economically troubled and crime ridden city.

"Bludhaven, that still doesn't explain how he knew to place that bomb," Batman said as he focused on Gordon. "It's funny Jim, we brought down Dent and Clayface. Why was it so hard to get the Joker? He had a plan of escape which means he no doubt also has a large group of henchmen at his disposal."

"The Joker is a master of theatrics. Much like you, the differences being you have a sense of justice and he has no sense at all."

"Jim, don't ever compare me to the Joker. He is a maniac. I am only the force that keeps him under control," Batman acknowledged impatiently.

"Batman, you're the counterbalance. I don't want to accept that my city is in need of a vigilante, but I will say that you are the reason along with the police and the practitioners at Arkham that our city hasn't fallen into chaos You help Gotham, and if it were any other way, we would have put you in the same place as the rest of the freaks," Gordon countered.

"Well then, the question remains do we continue looking for him in Bludhaven or do we just get him? Have you done your job?" Batman asked Commissioner Gordon in a condescending tone.

"We've still got to get a lock on his whereabouts. So yeah once we do, we can go after him, bring this nut down, then all go home. But I know it won't be that easy. We have to have men on him at all times. We're close and we're not gonna lose him this time," Gordon countered in a determined voice.

"We've got to be ready for anything Jim," Batman uttered in a sort of skeptical tone.

"I'll let you know when we get further news friend."

"I'll be waiting," Batman muttered just before he soared off the ledge and into the night.


	10. Part 1 Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

Days had passed, as Bruce Wayne was on the phone with Commissioner Gordon in the Batcave, his voice disguised as Batman.

"Yeah that's right Batman He's somewhere in Gotham. We know that his next move is tonight. Our boys overheard relaying his plans to his men. He's going to try to blow up the whole of Gotham Square. I think he knows we're onto him, so he's gonna try to take out as many people as possible."

"Fine Commissioner, I'll go downtown and see what I can do," Bruce replied keeping his voice under the guise of the Dark Knight.

"Right! Contact me if anything goes down, Gordon out."

As Bruce hung up the phone, he went briskly to his costume chamber. The chamber door went up like an old castle gate. Alfred stood ready for anything as Bruce entered the chamber.

He grabbed a pair of his many boots and gloves and placed them in front of a bench as he put on one of his armor-clad, dark gray bodysuits. He proceeded with his black boots and then placed his scalloped gloves on each hand. Lastly, he raced over to a far wall, where a series of his capes and cowls were hanging in an upright position. He grabbed one and fit it neatly over his head, securing the cape behind him and finally assuming the mantle of the Dark Knight detective.

He walked out of the chamber for Alfred to take notice of his transformation. Alfred stared as he always did and a small shutter of dread came over him. He quickly handed Batman a fully loaded utility belt. After putting it on, the Batmobile went into exit mode.

"Good luck tonight Sir," Alfred wished as Batman was already in the Batmobile ready to set out on his nightly ritual.

The Batmobile shot off like a rocket up the exit ramp and out of the dark cave.

* * *

Around 8:45 pm, the Batmobile reached downtown. The car's door flew open and Batman exited. As the Batmobile drove off by way of remote control, a group of theatrically clad henchmen appeared ahead, armed with various weapons. Batman met each thug with a punch as they began to surround him. He grabbed one and threw him with a mighty force. As another caught Batman's boot square in the face, he went down with a mouthful of blood.

As the remaining goons encircled the Dark Knight, he gave one a fist to the mouth and tripped him. As the goon went down, another grabbed Batman from behind. Batman leaned forward, flipping him over his shoulders, and then as he hit the ground, Batman met him with a tremendous kick to the ribs. Batman looked quickly behind him and noticed a lone guard beginning to back away in horror. Batman backed him into a corner and grabbed him.

Throwing the goon against the side of a building Batman uttered, "Where's your boss? Where's the Joker?"

The goon barely able to speak exclaimed, "I can't tell you. He'll kill me!"

"Wrong answer," Batman declared as he punched the goon in the gut. "Tell me now," the Dark Knight warned as he began to lift the goon from his feet.

"Okay Mr. Batman. I'll tell you. He's inside the Clocktower. That's where he's running tonight's operation. He's got three hostages. Security guards I think. And he's gonna blow up the Square at 10:00 tonight."

"He's a fool. Gotham Square is a quarter of downtown," Batman mumbled to the guard as he threw him against the building.

Meanwhile, on the other side of downtown, the Batmobile raced through the streets picking off guards one by one with the various non-lethal armaments installed in the impressive vehicle. Moments later the car met its owner on the corner of a well lit street next to the _Adams & Toole Shopping Plaza_. As the Dark Knight got in the cockpit of the Batmobile, a commotion was heard on the other side of the street. Some late night shoppers were waving and motioning towards the Batmobile as it sped away.

* * *

The Batmobile cruised through downtown Gotham City in route to the Clocktower. Batman knew that if the Clocktower in Gotham Square was to go, then so would Wayne Tower and Police Headquarters. That would be a terrible loss for the city as well as Bruce Wayne. The Joker had to be stopped. The Batmobile's clock read 9:25 pm. Batman took the Aparo Expressway to get to the side of downtown that was Gotham Square.

Moments later, the remarkable vehicle coasted from the Expressway past Aparo Park and into Gotham Square. As Wayne Tower came into view, the Batmobile turned to another block and sped through the Square. Coming up on the right was Police Headquarters. Once again the car curved left and drove a few more blocks. As Batman came across the Clocktower, he noticed it's exterior flooded with the Joker's goons. He knew he would have to attempt a sneak attack in order to avoid the mob outside the tower.

Batman drove a few blocks away from the Clocktower to play it safe and park the Batmobile inconspicuously. As he parked, it wasn't long before he exited and was on his way to meet the Joker.

As the Dark Knight approached the city block that housed the Clocktower, he began to wait in the shadows, in a nearby alley undetected. He needed a quick diversion. He took a small black hook shaped device from his belt and quickly removed a small barrel shaped device from the heel of his boot. He put the two devices together to construct a sonar-gun. He set the sonar to a low frequency and briefly removed himself from the shadows pointing the gun towards the entrance of the Clocktower. As he pressed the small button on the sonar-gun, he quickly returned to the alley for cover.

In a moment's notice, a weak noise came over the sky. Suddenly there was a black mass forming above the Clocktower. A horde of bats came rushing down on top of the crowd of Joker's henchmen.

As the crooks struggled, Batman rushed through them, seemingly invisible due to the violent swarm of bats covering them. He gave two men at the top staircase of the entrance a hard shove. The two men tripped down the stairs, creating a domino-like effect, leaving Batman free to enter.

As the Dark Knight stepped inside the massive tower, he turned off his sonar and returned it to his utility belt. Everything was dim. He could see a hall in front that led to a dimly lit opened entrance.

_The Joker perhaps?_ Batman wondered as he raced to the entrance. It was nothing but an old janitor's closet. He looked around the hall to see any apparent signs of the Joker. He noticed nothing. He abruptly took the small staircase that led to the elevator.

Once in the elevator, he saw the onboard clock. It was 9:45 pm. Batman had fifteen minutes to find the Clown Prince and put a stop to his fiendish scheme. As the elevator sounded Batman knew he was running out of time.

The large bronze elevator doors opened and Batman realized now that he had gone to the observation deck. As he stepped out, he could hear the maniacal laughter of his foe. He knew he was close.


	11. Part 1 Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

Batman suddenly spotted the Joker dancing past him in a fit of enthusiasm.

"What am I to do Batman? You found me. Oh well I guess my plan is ruined. But you don't have this," he announced to Batman as he held out a small radio detonator.

"Joker, give me the detonator!" demanded the Dark Knight, with fury blazing in his eyes.

"Oh Batsy, you don't really think you'll win do you? Hee Hee Haa Haa Haa," teased the Joker.

"You diseased maniac! You're going back to Arkham," Batman claimed.

"I don't think so. You are a very persistent man, Bats. But I can stop you," the clown declared as he pulled out his Smith Wesson revolver. "I am going to kill you Batman. You are the absolute bane of my reality," he said aiming it towards Batman and pulling the trigger.

_BANG_!

As the flag came out of the barrel, the Joker realized his trick gun had gone off.

"Damn it. Haa Haa Looks like I forgot my real one," the Joker said as he darted for the elevator.

With that, Batman chased after him. He dove for the Joker knocking him down and landing on him. The Clown Prince punched Batman, and the two began wrestling. Batman was then kicked hard in the gut and the Joker ran as fast as he could to the elevator. The Dark Knight fired an exploding batarang at the elevator and it detonated destroying the detonator that was now in the Joker's pocket as well as injuring the Joker.

"We finish this now," Batman screamed as he slammed the Joker against the wall. "Give it up. You've lost. Your detonator is gone."

"Always carry a spare Batman. Haven't you learned anything that your dearest Joker has tried to teach you?"

"Where is it Joker? Where's the other detonator?"

"Hah like I'm gonna tell. I always thought it was bad to be a rat," he replied slapping Batman, knocking him back enough to escape his clutches.

"You idiot! You destroyed my precious detonator that I triggered for the Square. Now I only get to blow away this miserable tower, and with any luck you as well. Here it is Batsy," Joker told him as he pulled it out.

"Don't do it. You'll destroy the rest of the block and yourself as well," Batman implored him. "Listen to reason."

"Reason… I have no reason for anything Batman."

"You criminal scum I'm finished with your games."

"I'm tired of your name calling," Joker screamed as he hit the button on the detonator.

As it beeped, Batman ran and lunged off the edge as an explosion shortly followed.

* * *

The next morning, Bruce Wayne sat in a meeting at Wayne Tower, just two blocks from the explosion the night before.

"And did you see the news this morning people?" Lucius Fox retorted excitedly prancing around the crowded meeting room. "There has been no sign of the Joker since last night. They didn't find his or Batman's bodies."

"I'm sure they'll find something Lucius. Can we get back to business?" Bruce asked picking up his cup of coffee.

"Sorry Bruce but maybe we should start talking about how much money the Wayne Foundation is going to donate to the building fund for the Clocktower."

"That's something for you, me and the city to decide Mr. Fox. Now, back to business if you please!"

"Right Bruce, sorry," his trusted advisor apologized.

As the meeting continued, Bruce couldn't help but wonder, due to his advisor's unruly outburst, what had become of the Joker. The night before just after the explosion, Batman thoroughly examined the remains of the tower, in search of the Clown Prince and found no one.

As the meeting ended, several people left the meeting room.

"Lucius," Bruce demanded. "Please sit down. What was the meaning of your outburst a few minutes ago? That was most out of character"

"Sorry Bruce, really I am. I just got quite excited this morning when I heard the news. I guess with my being captured the other day -."

"It's fine Lucius. You don't have to explain. That was a traumatic time for all of us."

"Yes well, I do apologize," he announced as he hastily left the room.

As Bruce went back to his office, his phone rang.

"Bruce Wayne. Ah yes Mr. Shevers. Well it is up to you when we hold the meeting for the rebuilding campaign. The Clocktower has been the main source of news for the last few hours. Yes, I suppose tomorrow will be fine. Sure, yes that will be okay. No, I agree with you. We need to get this landmark rebuilt as soon as possible. Thank you sir, bye"

Bruce then prepared to leave the office for home, packing up his briefcase and marching to the elevator.

"Are you out for the day Mr. Wayne?" his secretary asked.

"Yeah Margaret I'm off to take care of a few things at home. See ya' tomorrow."

"Okay Sir. Have a good day."

Once Bruce was aboard the expensive elevator, he knew that the rest of his day could be reserved for more important things, without any interruption.

* * *

That night, at midnight, the Bat-Signal streamed through the air like a hawk searching for prey.

At a moment's notice, Batman came up the side of the police headquarters building.

The Commissioner greeted him with appreciation. "You know the Clocktower killed most of the Joker's henchmen. We found two of them. They were driven mad by what we suspect was the only word they could speak, bats."

"Still no sign of him yet?" Batman said referring to the Joker.

"Our boys have been combing the remnants of the tower and haven't seen anything unusual yet. Hell, no one was even sure if you were alive until now. The mayor made me put out the signal tonight just to see if you'd come runnin'. It's good to know you're alright Batman."

"Don't worry Commissioner. We'll find him. I won't rest until he's either dead or back in Arkham."

"Good to know friend. See you tomorrow night."

"Maybe," said the Batman as he dove off the building in a rush of fury.


	12. The AWAKENING Chapter 1

**Knight of Vengeance: The AWAKENING**

**Chapter 1**

There was an eerie quietness to Gotham City as it experienced its first hard rain in what seemed like months. It had been nearly two weeks since a bomb set off by the Joker had demolished the Clocktower in downtown. The Clown Prince was still on the loose, resulting in a massive manhunt. Working hastily to clean up the demolition site, the city council already formed plans to rebuild.

On this dreary Saturday night, as the streets of Gotham were littered with activist groups and the common people, an elderly woman forced her way through the crowds after a long night of shopping.

Lost in the multitude of people, she eventually headed towards Crime Alley. Approaching the center of the alley, she grew tense, her body trembling as she felt looming eyes watch her every move. Huddling her bags and purse closer to her, she sped up her pace, trying to find her way out of the darkness.

Instantly, three figures crept out of the shadows, knocking her against the wall. She could tell by the callous stares on their grim faces, that these men were anything but friendly.

Not willing to go down without a fight, she clutched a hold of her bags in one arm and struck the first man in the face. Struggling as one of the thugs wrapped his arm around her neck from behind, another gave the woman a harsh punch to her gut. She gasped for air as she sank to the ground.

Her bags sailed to the ground, along with her Italian purse, landing in a puddle from the recent hard rain. One of the goons quickly grabbed the purchases and leather purse. She watched him through blurry eyes as anger bubbled within. She arose once more and found the strength to kick the armed goon. As she dug her heels in his shoulder, he fell over, sloshing in a puddle.

Losing all her strength after that final kick, another mugger tripped her and gave a swift kick to her gut. Her back arched, she rested on her elbows, breathing deeply as the men towered over her.

Then without warning the back of her skull was struck with a large metal pipe. A loud crack sounded. As she lay lifelessly in the alleyway, the attackers flipped her over on her back as they began to search for more pickings as her body suddenly went into convulsions. Once they realized that they had picked everything of worth off the woman, they scurried away like rats to the edge of the alley, setting atop an old rusted dumpster.

"Not a bad night boys," one of the men said as he passed an accomplice the wallet of the now dead woman that lay across the alley.

"Yep, we got what we came for. Made out good," another laughed, slapping his leg as he watched their leader divide the loot. "Cut it even Brock. I want my share, damn it. Not like last time," he exclaimed, making sure he wouldn't be cheated.

"Yeah, yeah, it'll be even," Brock stated, tossing a pearl necklace into one of three piles. "Well boys, we've got cash, credit cards and jewelry. Ha," he mocked, delving through a Tiffany's shopping bag, "looks like we'll be making a trip to the pawnshop and an ATM," he stated excitedly, tossing a gold watch to a fellow thief.

"Damn, this is real gold too," the third shouted, fingering the watch with grimy hands as his eyes glittered covetously.

"Yeah but we got cash, that's most important," the second grinned, his yellow teeth glowing. "I can't believe that stupid broad was carrying nearly a grand in her wallet. Who would do that? I…" he trailed off, his eyes darting down the dark alley to where the corpse laid. "What the hell was that?" he exclaimed, hearing the noise again on the other side of the alley.

"Just a damn cat or somethin'. Forget about it."

"No, no," the leader stated, jumping from his seat, gripping a concealed gun from his leather jacket. "Somebody's playin' with us," he declared, cocking his nine-millimeter pistol.

As all three men stood on alert, a batarang flew out of nowhere, shattering a streetlight directly above their heads. As darkness fell over the scene, the goons grabbed as much of the loot as they could in their pockets and with their pistols cocked and ready to fire, they waited anxiously to see what would happen next.

Out from the shadows leapt a cloaked apparition, standing tall and more looming than the three could have ever imagined. All the goons could see was an outline of the figure and a pair of glowing eyes, piercing their terrified souls. As the accomplices took a few steps back, they looked to their leader, waiting for his reaction.

Hesitant, fearing of looking like a fool, he ordered his men to fire at the shadow. Obeying, shots rang across the alley as the figure leapt to safety, avoiding every shot, then easily tackling one the goons to the ground from a nearby fire escape.

He leered toward another goon; with a swift hand, he grabbed him, and threw him across the alley into a collection of discarded trashcans. By now the remaining thug was at the other end of the alley. A batarang raced through the air and made sharp contact with the back of the goon's head. With the feel of victory slightly overcoming him, the Dark Knight sneered as he watched the man drop to the ground, only a few feet away from the woman that this clan of street punks had just murdered.

As sirens blared, approaching the scene, Batman instantly scaled the fire escape. Once he reached the top, he climbed to the roof of the building and pulled a remote control from his utility belt. Suddenly the Batmobile sped down the shady street towards the Dark Knight's present location.

As it stopped directly in front of Crime Alley, Batman jumped from atop the building and landed squarely in the driver's seat. As the access to the large vehicle closed, the Batmobile sped away in route to the Batcave.

* * *

Hours passed as Batman nursed a sore arm, resting in the dank Batcave around the computer's center hub. Looking over a report sent in from police headquarters, he read it thoroughly, calculating his next move. 

The confidential document confirmed that an unknown assailant had mysteriously murdered five top city officials over a period of days. The worst of it all, Mayor Hamilton Hill was next!

"But why Mayor Hill?" Batman murmured under his breath, rubbing his forehead deep in thought. Leaning back in his black leather chair, he crossed his legs, thinking of a villain that could be the possible suspect. "Who would go after Hill? Not the Clock King, he's incarcerated in Stonegate Penitentiary. Maybe…" he wasn't sure who could be the suspect. The obvious was Temple Fugate, the notorious Clock King, whom vowed revenge on Hill, but since he was incarcerated, Batman couldn't be sure.

Hearing a slight patter of footsteps approaching him, he turned around, greeting Alfred, his loyal manservant and closet friend. "Alfred, I thought you'd be fast asleep by now," Batman started, taking the tray from his arms.

"It's only midnight sir and besides, I thought you might be hungry; men of your stature need nourishment," he announced as Batman took a bite of his turkey sandwich on rye bread.

With a grin, Batman quickly ate as Alfred returned to the study of the Wayne mansion above them.

He decided that it was time to pay Jim Gordon a visit. He jumped in the Batmobile and as the car came to a roar, the Dark Knight sped off. With great ferocity, his prized vehicle zoomed out from the Batcave's hidden entrance and pulled onto the main avenue outside of Wayne Manor.

Moments passed as the Batmobile had finally reached downtown, en route for Police Headquarters. Once the large building came into view, the Batmobile careened through a nearby alley and abruptly halted.

The Dark Knight exited the car and began lurking down the alley. He ceased his pace as he noticed an open window a few stories up. With a shot of his grapple gun Batman ascended. He watched as Commissioner Gordon examined several files on his cluttered office desk. The gray haired man looked deep in thought as he hunched over his paperwork, tapping a pen in his hand hard against the desk with irritation.

"Hi Jim," Batman declared his presence by stepping through his usual entrance. "We need to talk."

Nearly falling out of his chair with surprise of the Dark Knight's arrival, the Commissioner finally replied with a meek _Hello_ as he held his chest. "You've got to stop doing that," he murmured with a slight laugh, straightening his back in his chair.

Not responding to his fright, Batman continued, "I read the report," he informed, his stance constant.

"Yeah, it's strange all right. In just under a week, five of the city's most decorated officials have been murdered in cold blood," declared the first-rate cop.

"Does anyone suspect the Joker?" Batman asked, moving to the front of Jim's desk.

"Well, this is where it gets complicated friend. We don't think it's the Joker. In fact we have a pretty good idea of who the culprit is," he revealed, tapping his fingers on his desk.

"Oh?" Batman replied, with surprise in his voice.

"Yup, we found these at each of the crime scenes," the Commissioner stated, pulling out his desk drawer to expose five small green boxes littered with question marks.

"Riddle boxes!" exclaimed Batman, folding his arms.

"That's right," the Commissioner confirmed. "The Riddler escaped from Arkham five nights ago, poisoning three guards and a doctor in the process with some kind of toxic gas. And that very night, the murders started happening. Our boys have analyzed his clues time and again. We can't figure 'em out."

"Maybe I should take them to examine." Batman offered, studying the boxes.

"Sure thing friend. Maybe you'll have better luck." As Gordon handed the Dark Knight five evidence bags containing the clues, he informed him of something else. "We think he has an accomplice but we're not sure who at the moment. Detective Bullock is following a lead."

"Commissioner, it doesn't make since, what would the Riddler want with these men? His crimes are typically motivated by greed or anger at the corporate world."

"That's why we think the accomplice might be the actual killer. It's puzzling. In any case, we've got to protect Mayor Hill. The problem is, we don't have any idea where the Riddler is or how to stop him or his would be accomplice. On top of it all, this manhunt for the Joker isn't working either. He's stayed quiet since the demolition a couple weeks ago."

"I'll look into these clues for now and see what I can find. As for the Joker, all we can do is wait for him to make his next move," said the Dark Knight.

"Sad but true, I'm afraid. In the meantime, we'll keep our eyes and ears open for whatever we can find. Good night."

"Good night Jim," Batman replied as he jumped out the office window into the night.


	13. The AWAKENING Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

The next night, a black limousine rolled up alongside a shabby building in Crown Point, a smaller inner-district just inside the Gotham Bowery. Out of the car came Charles Vanelli, son of deceased gangster Caesar Vanelli. As he and two members of his entourage approached the entrance, each of them scowled at the conditions of the place and the surrounding neighborhood. As they entered the building, each man checked their coats to see if they remembered their armaments. Sure enough, they were strapped.

Suddenly, once the doors were closed behind them, Charles Vanelli cried out in a demanding tone, "Nigma, Nigma! Show yourself. We got business to discuss."

Out of a dark corner of the room stepped a black-haired lanky man clad in a green bodysuit, with what appeared to be question marks stitched all over the suit. It was none other than Edward Nigma, one of Gotham's most notorious super criminals, otherwise known as _the Riddler_.

Once a corporate slave to Gotham's business world, Edward Nigma spent many years at Goth-Corp as an unaccredited inventor of children's toys. He eventually grew tired of not getting any recognition and turned to a life of crime, believing himself to be of higher intelligence than all of his contemporaries. He inevitably went insane, becoming obsessed with conundrums, so much so that his crimes were always left with a clue that foiled even the most seasoned of detectives.

"Hello boys. How goes it?" exclaimed the green-clad lunatic.

"How ya' doin' Eddie?" started Charles, smoothing back his black hair with a hand glittering with diamond rings. "Listen, my boys have been out looking for Mayor Hill for three days; he's nowhere to be found. So, I'm implementing a few new rules to our little agreement. Now, the deal is that you give us the Joker and we'll continue to help you find Hill. However, if you wanna make things difficult…" the gangster demandingly informed, cracking his knuckles as a well-built man from behind him took a few menacing steps forward.

"Oh Charlie, you come here to my hideout making demands. "Tisk tisk," he laughed, his lanky arms resting on his slim hips. "You want revenge on the Joker for standing idly by while Two-Face snuffed out your old man. I understand that but the fact is, you still haven't found the mayor for me yet and I grow tired of waiting. Besides, quite honestly, I don't even know where Joker is," he yawned, budding on the brink of boredom with the conversation. "In fact, I don't really need you anymore. You've taken out nearly all of the city council for me. So it won't be you who breaks our ties Charlie boy. Now, piss off, I'm done with you… for now," countered the Riddler in a long breath.

Shocked and affronted, the three men hastily drew their guns, aiming at the gangly green trickster.

"Nobody double crosses the Vanelli crime family," stated Charles heatedly. "The only reason we don't go after Dent is because he's locked up, protected in that damn asylum. The Joker is the next best thing. Every criminal in this godforsaken town has ties with that clown. We did your work Nigma, now we'll get what we deserve, come hell or high water."

"Oh, you'll get what you deserve," the Riddler cackled as he skipped across the room to a nearby table, the gun nozzles following him along the way. Pulling out what appeared to be a large gas mask from the table drawer, he placed it over his head. Quickly revealing an elaborate remote control, he nonchalantly pushed a few buttons. "You see Charlie, this place used to be a chemical refinery. Notice above you the air ducts. In minutes you will all be poisoned by a new formula I developed at Arkham."

"Poisoned? Like hell we will!" yelled Charles, firing his submachine gun at the trickster.

"As you wish," laughed the Riddler, his voice echoing in the building, nowhere to be seen as a haze began to cover the inside of the warehouse.

"Gas – smoke -," one of Vanelli's cronies coughed, "Mr. Vanelli, we have to go!" Vanelli finally agreed with a snarl and a cough, leading the way as the three men scrambled for the door.

Watching from behind a crate, the Riddler grinned to himself, able to escape harms way through another door adjacent to the entrance of the old structure.

Angry and wreaking of the gas, the gangsters ran from the old refinery and hurriedly crowded in the limousine. As the car quickly took off, the Riddler watched by now on the second floor, still inside. As the toxic air dissipated, Edward Nigma tossed aside his gasmask, lounging on an old couch in the former office. Quickly picking up a nearby phone, he put in a call to the Operator, then Stonegate Penitentiary.

After a few short rings, the other line was answered. "Stonegate, this is Chris with the answering service. How may I help you?" a dimwitted security guard answered.

"Yes, good evening old chap, I'd like to schedule a visitation to see Miss. Selena Kyle."

"Kyle? All right, are you any relation to the inmate Sir?" the guard continued.

"I haven't seen the sweet child in years. I'm her uncle," the Riddler lied, his grin widening on his pale face as the guard fell for his every word.

"Sir, visits are daily, from one to one-thirty in the afternoon. You'll have to sign in and come by then."

"Excellent," the Riddler replied hanging up on the guard with giddiness.

* * *

The next morning, Bruce Wayne slouched in his executive chair in his office at Wayne Tower. He looked out the window to get a quick view of the city. Abruptly his secretary entered, handing Bruce the latest edition of _The Gotham Chronicle._

"Here is your paper Sir and another cup of coffee," she said, leaving the office as quickly as she entered.

"Thanks," Bruce replied, taking a sip of the expensive Columbian brew. Inhaling deeply, he opened the paper as the headline caught his eyes, distressing his already dampened mood. "Last Councilman Shot Dead… Police Baffled" he read aloud, scouring the paper for details.

Taking a highlighter and marking a few precise lines and words, his intercom beeped with his secretary's soft voice reaching through from the other end.

"Sir, Mr. Fox is here. He says it's important."

"Alright, send him in," Bruce replied.

Seconds passed as Bruce heard a knock at the door and Lucius Fox, his trusted advisor, proudly strutted in.

"Mornin' Bruce," he said cheerfully, closing the massive door behind him.

"Hi Lucius, what do ya' got for me?" Bruce inquired, offering his friend a seat.

"Well Bruce, I'm afraid I have some bad news. Now, I want to keep this quiet. Only a hand full of lawyers and I know about this. Goth-Corp and Star Labs have found a way to institute a hostile takeover of our company."

"Lucius, that's impossible. Don't be ridiculous, we have more money, more notoriety and more power as a corporate entity. What's going on here?"

"It's complicated. Both companies have found a loophole in the system and well it's more or less a legal ransom. They have agreed to merge Star Labs, Goth Corp and Wayne Enterprises under one banner. All we have to do is agree. And it looks like someone already has. We are fighting this I assure you. We've got Fredericks and our best lawyers on it. It appears they have documents that prove that Wayne Enterprises has agreed to the deal."

"Ah, they wanna play hardball with my company, so they fabricate signatures and such and by next week we will be one giant corporation. No, Lucius with all do respect, you tell those men that not only Gotham and Metropolis, but the world benefits with these three companies segregated."

"It's like they are holding us at bay with a legal ransom. Now, you know I'm only on the business side of things Bruce, but it looks like they would have us pinned. With the right signatures and the right publicity, we could lose everything. Your father is probably rolling over in his grave. But there is good news too. Our men know that they need one more signature to close the deal and that deals with you and a bank account merger. I think that since Wayne Enterprises is the cornerstone of Gotham it will all come down to politics and public opinion," Lucius stated very heatedly.

"Can you fix it? Do I have anything to worry about?"

"It shouldn't be a big problem, but it is an immediate setback. Don't worry; our lawyers will sue them for obstruction and fraud so fast they won't know what hit them. It's like you said, we have more money and the public trust us," his advisor informed.

"Keep me posted on this matter. If you'll excuse me Lucius, I'm gonna get outta here for a while. Get some fresh air, take a walk in the park or something," Bruce responded standing up from the desk.

"Well, whatever that fresh air will do for ya, I'm sure it'll be productive," Lucius laughed, shaking his hand goodbye.

"You know it. See ya' later Lucius," Bruce exclaimed as the two men exited the office.

As Bruce entered the elevator, he thought of what Alfred would be doing at the moment. _Probably reading the paper and drinking his English tea_, Bruce chuckled to himself. He trusted his advisors and knew that if worse came to worse on this takeover issue, they would handle it. Once the elevator reached the ground floor, Bruce stepped out and left the building. Reaching his red Mercedes, he was ready to head home.


	14. The Awakening Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

Meanwhile outside Stonegate Penitentiary, a man exited an old beat-up sedan in the parking lot and entered the massive, architecturally sound prison. Walking down the beige corridors, he held his head high as he stood in front of the admissions window and waited to be recognized.

Seconds passed as an overweight man of about thirty lounged in his chair, his feet on the desk. "Sir?" the man struggled to gain his attention. "Sir?" he tapped the closed window with his cane as the guard looked up.

Opening a small window in a huff, the guard questioned his business.

"Hello, I am here to see a Miss Selena Kyle," the man informed the cop who returned to set in his chair behind the window.

"Let's see your identification," the officer demanded, folding his arms.

"Of course, of course, how silly of me. Now where is it?" he fumbled around in his coat and jeans, looking for his wallet. "Ah, here you go," the odd man replied, placing an unknown object through an opening in the glass.

Suddenly, out of a small, capsule leaked a hazy, green gas. The very same gas used on Charles Vanelli and his men.

_Could it be?_ It was… _the Riddler!_

With great might, he smashed in the remaining glass with his signature solid brass question mark shaped cane, as the man's body convulsed rapidly behind the enclosure. He quickly jumped through the window as the security guard fell to the floor unconscious, his body bloating and contorting from the toxic substance.

The Riddler undressed the officer and replaced his own trench coat and blue jeans with the police garb. Quickly, the Riddler grabbed the keys to the cellblock and let himself in. He now had to find Selena Kyle's cell. Learning from the papers that she'd been locked up for robbing museums of precious artifacts, he new she was the one that would best suit his fiendish plot. After all, she was _Catwoman_, the world's greatest thief.

The lanky man skipped down the dimly lit cellblock in an amusing fashion, passing the cells of some of Gotham's most notorious criminals like Temple Fugate alias, _the Clock King_ and Waylon Jones alias _Killer Croc_.

As he continued down the dark corridor, screams could be heard from the cells of the more disturbed inmates. The Riddler tried hard to ignore them concentrating on the task at hand. As he approached what appeared to be a vacant cell, he noticed in a faintly lit corner a slim and seductive silhouette. Upon closer inspection, he noticed the shapely figure was none other than who he was looking for.

Selina Kyle had always been a thief. An orphan at birth, she found refuge in a foster mother that pampered her, as no mother ever should. As a teenager, with a lust for beautiful objects, she began a career as a small-time thief and financed her excursions through work on the streets in a prostitution ring. Over time, the amateur temptress became renowned among Gotham's lower-level criminals and eventually found work for some of the city's most notorious gangsters as a jewel thief before striking out on her own. She even was involved with the Falcone Crime Family, for a time, but was later cast out due to a suspicious theft of Carmine "The Roman" Falcone's private fortune. Thus, she returned to a life of lone thievery.

"Catwoman, I presume," the Riddler said looking through the rusted prison bars.

At the sound of the man's voice, the shadowy woman moved out of the shade, casting her profile in the swinging fluorescent lights above the hallway.

"Eddie Nigma," she purred, looking the man up and down. "What do you want with me? A girl like me is just a cat in a cage. Useless to someone like you," she declared. "Besides, I thought they put you in isolation at Arkham; something about having cancer?"

"Yes, it was tragic. But," he said on a brighter note, "a cure was found."

"Well, whatever your business is with me, you should hurry. The guard will be here soon," Selina warned, resting on the iron bench chained to the concrete wall.

"The only guard on duty for the main floor is dead. We have plenty of time," he informed her. "Now allow me to get down to business. I propose a pairing. I wish to free you from this dismal life of imprisonment. And in return, you will be an aid. Help me to take over the Vanelli crime family," the Riddler informed her of his plan.

"Crime family? I don't deal with gangsters anymore Eddie. Besides this Vanelli character must be pretty small time. I've never heard of him."

"I assure you Miss Kitty, the Vanelli Empire is high profile. I need someone who knows how the mind of a gangster works. After I take over the empire, you will be handsomely rewarded with cash, jewels and this…" he held out a small trinket to entice Selina.

"The Cat's Eye Emerald! Where did you find it," the imprisoned fanatic inquired with great interest.

"I picked it up at an old five and dime," the Riddler joked, wrinkles showing from around his leering mouth.

"I must have it. You don't know how valuable it is," she exclaimed, returning to the bars to reach for it.

"Then you'll help me?" he asked, holding the jewel out of reach.

Growling, she considered her options. As the emerald twinkled in the light, she cursed her lust, having no other choice. "Yes, I will help you. But things are going to be on my terms," she agreed, saying seconds later, "why would you want to run a high profile gang anyways?"

"It's quite simple my dear, as the leader of a gang I will be able to outsmart everyone in Gotham. After we take over the Vanelli gang, I will be ideally placed to build the empire into Gotham's greatest cartel. Then we can run this city into the ground with puzzling conundrums and problematic enigmas. But, before I let you out, let's have a riddle just for fun."

"Please Eddie, spare me. I don't have time for games," Selina said annoyed, back on the bench where she combed her hair with her fingers.

"Riddle me this Catwoman, what purrs, moves and hunts with great reflex, yet has a weakness that most others can conquer. Not one of my best but it suits you. Now, answer it and you're free to go."

"Let me out you fool," Selina's voice rose in further frustration.

"Maybe you'd like to go back to your days of whoring on the streets. Answer the damn riddle kitten," his temper rose slightly at her refusal.

"My terms Nigma, remember, my terms," she stated, hands on hip, her dark hair bouncing off her shoulder as she cocked her head in irritation. "The answer is a cat, a feline. The weakness you refer to is water. Now let me out you dumb fool."

"Beautiful, the Riddler exclaimed as he unlocked the old fashioned jail cell.

As Selina crept out, she reached for the jewel in the madman's hand.

"Ah ah. Not until you have met our part of the deal," he laughed as loud footsteps echoed around.

"Damn it!" she exclaimed as the noise was heard on the other end of the cellblock. "They're coming. We have to get to the property locker. I have to get my things," she continued exiting the cellblock through the other end.

"You go. I'll hold them off. Meet me in the parking lot in three minutes," the Riddler ordered as he pulled out a couple of small capsules. He threw them to the ground as an approaching guard could be heard bellowing a demanding "Stop!" as the capsules ignited, spewing gas through the air. The Riddler quickly exited through the cellblock and slammed the large steel door behind him, entering the parking lot.

As he made it out to his car, Selina was already there and dressing herself in her trademark, leather cat-suit. The pair entered the dilapidated automobile and sped out of sight.


	15. The AWAKENING Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

A few nights later at the Grant Park Cemetery on the ritzy side of Gotham, Batman was visiting the Wayne graves. It was pitch black and the night was so silent you could hear a pin drop.

The Dark Knight just stood at the foot of his parents' crypts, staring at the Wayne family name on the engraved marble. He didn't come here often. In fact this was the first time in months that he had been here as Batman. Bruce Wayne only visited their graves on the anniversary of their death. But tonight was different; something about the light rain drew him to them. . Batman came to this particular location at times, only to think.

Glancing down, he recalled as he had many times before, the vow that he had made to his beloved parents; the silent promise to avenge their death by combating crime in all forms. His thoughts were suddenly broken as he heard approaching footsteps. He moved away from the Wayne graves as fast as possible. After all, he didn't want to provoke suspicion of his secret identity or the double life he so casually lead.

With great haste, a rather large figure shuffled through the tall grass and weeds in the cemetery yard toward Batman. It wasn't until the stature got close enough that the Dark Knight realized it was Lieutenant Harvey Bullock of the GCPD. The man was short of breath as he confronted Batman who stood as grim as possible like a gothic statue of Gotham architecture.

"Nice night huh, Bats?" the detective spoke, pulling a fresh cigar from his coat pocket. "I was in the neighborhood and noticed a couple of blocks back that your car was in the alley. It's quite hard to miss a car like that. I figured you'd be around here somewhere and where else would a psycho go on a damp night but a cemetery?" he laughed through puffs of smoke. "I thought it might it be a good opportunity to fill you in on some business."

"You've found something Detective?" the Dark Knight asked in a somber tone.

"Yeah Bats, I been following this lead I picked up on an anonymous tip. I think I got 'em; the Joker that is. I've been spying on him for a couple days. It's pretty bad," Bullock informed as he shoved his hands in his coat, letting the cheap cigar dangle freely from his fat lips.

"How bad Bullock? Where is he?"

"Well, you aren't gonna believe this but he's been hiding in the exact spot you looked before; that old place on the north side. The Laff Riot."

"It can't be; that place went up in an explosion," Batman muttered in disbelief, turning the opposite way to think. "It makes since though. He knew that I'd never look back there thinking it was demolished. A few weeks ago I was nearly blasted to kingdom come, investigating his whereabouts before his mass destruction of Gotham Plaza's Clocktower."

"Well Bats, from where I'm standin' the place looks okay, at least from the outside. It was a brick building after all. It looks like any old dive in the slums of this great city. But that's what the tip was about. The tip came about several missing kids. Orphans, and as near as I can figure, he kidnapped 'em. They might be held there."

"My God Bullock. If he's holding innocent children hostage, there is no telling what he'll do. They're in danger," Batman said concerned before Bullock interrupted.

"Again, the Joker ain't the only problem. After the last councilman was killed, we didn't hear from the Riddler for the longest time. The other night, at Stonegate, he bailed out Catwoman. We know it was him 'cause he killed three on-duty cops with that same stuff he used to escape Arkham. It's pretty clear that they are independent from our clown friend, but God knows what they got planned," the overweight cop stated in a worried tone.

"Damn. Well, what about the Mayor? With those two on the loose, we need to keep him protected."

"Don't worry your pointy ears. Mayor Hill's safe. He's been under surveillance since the wave of murders started," Detective Bullock assured, with the dark apparition nodding.

"Well, we must figure out a plan," he soon replied.

"You mean work together. Look Bats, sounds flatterin' but I'd just as soon take this one on my own. We both know that if I had my way, you'd be locked up in Arkham with the rest of 'em. Chances are, you're gonna be in on it anyway," Bullock thought for a moment. "Yeah okay. Bats, have it your way, but just this once," Bullock finally agreed with a huff and long sigh.

The pair conversed in the graveyard for most of the night, attempting to find the best method in bringing down the lunatic clown. They also concentrated a bit on the Riddler and Catwoman. Just before dawn they departed.

* * *

The next night around nine o'clock, the same decrepit sedan that drove away from Stonegate Penitentiary, moved up a long driveway and stalled in front of a massive regal mansion. A man and woman garbed in unusual attire - the Riddler and Catwoman – confidently exited the car as they strolled up an elongated stairway towards the immense entrance of the manor house. As the Riddler rang the doorbell, a man quickly answered the door appearing to almost resemble a fatter version of Alfred Pennyworth.

"May I help you Sir? Madam?" the bulging man in the tuxedo asked.

"Ah yes, I am here to see Charlie Vanelli. Where is the ol' chap?" the Riddler asked, wondering inside the large hall with Catwoman by his side.

The butler only departed for a mere two minutes until he returned, following Charles Vanelli down a grand staircase, facing the entrance to the joint. Vanelli, the recent owner of the great establishment, greeted his guests with contempt.

"Nigma, what the hell are you doin' here?" the gangster demanded, cracking his knuckles.

"I come in peace Charlie," the Riddler laughed to himself, spreading his arms joyfully. "I've had a change of heart. That attempt on your life the other night, well… it was a mistake," he continued, making light of the situation. Looking around the great hall, he spotted several men with machine guns, ready to strike at a snap of the fingers. "Well, I see you've had no problem taking over your old man's estate," he laughingly mocked.

At his words, several of the armed men crowded the scene holding both Nigma and Selina Kyle at gunpoint.

"What you want Eddie?" Vanelli asked with folded arms as his gaze trailed to Selina. "Who's the broad?"

"Your questions will be answered in due time my good man. I have come to offer you the Joker, just like you wanted."

"You got that rat with you?" the gangster grew excited, the tension slightly lessening around them.

"Well Charlie, not exactly. See, I think your men need to put down their muscle so we can talk," the green-clad man offered casually pointing to their guns.

With a swish of Vanelli's hand, the gangsters lowered the straps as he wrapped an arm around the Riddler's shoulders, leading him down a short corridor. As Selena began to follow, he stopped, staring at the cat with lustful, arrogant eyes.

"Sorry little kitty, only us big dogs are allowed in. Make yourself at home. There's the ladies' parlor down the hall." With that stated he turned away and disappeared from sight.

Alone, the remaining mobsters vanquished from sight, Catwoman growled angrily to herself, keeping her cool for the big picture. Free to explore the rest of the beautiful property, she took advantage of the opportunity. Sneaking upstairs to see what she could find, she knew the plan the Riddler devised was well on its way. By now, both the men and his goons should be assembled elsewhere.

Relaxing on a handcrafted Italian sofa, direct from Sicily, Nigma and Vanelli chatted about small talk until the use simply ran out. "All right Charles, it's like this," the Riddler began, crossing his ankles under the elaborate coffee table. "My goal to run Gotham into the ground can't go anywhere without the right motivation. That is why I propose this to you and I recommend that you accept my offer…"

"That sounds like a threat; doesn't it boys?" Vanelli responded as his guns cocked their weapons.

"Vanelli, why would I come here a make idle threats? I'm telling you the truth – it's from my heart," he continued, falsifying hurt. "Now, the plan is that I run this organization, this crime family, from now on," the Riddler boldly stated just before one of the goons spoke up.

"Hey, what's the big idea? Boss, I smell a double cross," the hefty man started with a thick Italian accent.

"It's fine, fine," Vanelli assured his guard, not for a second removing his eyes from the Riddler. "Look Nigma. Nobody is taking over my family's empire. I should blow your damn head off just for the thought. You come here and think you can take over; promise me the Joker and then you don't deliver? You got guts pal!" he scoffed irritably.

"Well Charlie you see, I'm afraid you have no choice. I predicted that you would be just as stubborn and pigheaded as your father – please, no offense is offered to the old man – but I knew you would refuse to have a _woman_ in on our little business. Grave mistake. Miss Kyle, Catwoman – I'm sure you've heard of her – is a valuable asset to any cartel," he smugly mentioned, tapping his trademark cane on the plush carpet for redundant effect.

"As fate would have it, I believe you angered the cat and cats are vicious creatures when crossed. I'm sure she's upstairs by now, making herself quite at home, and taking you for everything you've got, I might add," he laughed, rising to his feet slowly as the guns remained programmed to shoot and kill.

"Men hurry, find the stray!" Vanelli immediately yelled as half his men departed while three others stayed, not moving from their positions, each being the one who wanted to take out the infamous Riddler.

"That Joker business was just a ploy to get her upstairs," the evil genius carried on. "There was no need to send up your men. She will easily take care of them, if she isn't long gone. See, by now she has all the evidence against you and your boys that you so carelessly leave lying around as well as every amount of dough and gems you have upstairs. And the trick is," he bellied over in insane laughter as he pulled out small device from his pocket, a beeper, "she just beeped me – she's long gone!"

An awkward tension filled the air as Vanelli whipped around nervously, looking for something but finding nothing.

Pleasure on his face, the Riddler continued, as Vanelli obviously needed reassuring, "See for yourself. There's no doubt in my mind that she scaled a terrace or something and found her way to my car. You know something Charlie; your father was one of the greatest gangsters in all of Gotham…" he sneered. "Someone like you isn't as resourceful as Maroni or Falcone, the Riddler stated, giving mention to two other infamous crime bosses. "Compared to your daddy you are nothing. An amateur, that's why I am taking over," with that, the Riddler quickly dropped two capsules into the floor and the room clouded with the green hazy gas.

As Vanelli reached to strangle his throat, the Riddler quickly jumped out of the way, making a cartwheel to avoid smashing into a guard. He quickly put his gas mask on to avoid the green toxin.

Maniacal laughter filled the room as the three men made it to the entryway of the living area, gasping for air and then collapsing into a pile.

"I knew a stronger dose would pay off," the Riddler said pulling out a cellular telephone. Seconds later, he was on the line with Catwoman.

"It worked like clockwork Miss Kitty. Now we can call the rest of his men tomorrow and let them know that due to his sudden death, I will take over his precious family business." He hung up and replaced the small phone back in his jacket pocket as he began to tour the Vanelli mansion.


	16. The AWAKENING Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

Meanwhile on the north side of Gotham, Harvey Bullock sat in his car across the street from the rundown strip of buildings that housed _The Laff Riot _comedy club. He checked his watch just before opening a bottle of liquor and taking a quick swig.

From out of nowhere a dark profile came out of the air and briefly caressed the moonlight before swooping down to the street below. With haste, Harvey exited his car, almost as if afraid, greeting the shadow of the Dark Knight.

"Bullock," Batman acknowledged with a nod.

"Hey, it's Dracula. Good to see ya," the detective teased, throwing his cigar bud on the ground. Stomping on it, he continued, "Alright Bats, you ready for this?"

"As always," affirmed Batman as the pair raced to the entrance of the club across the street.

"So how do you usually do this Bats?" Bullock wondered aloud, looking all around him for the missing cloaked figure. "Bats, where the hell are you?"

The Dark Knight had disappeared. Deciding to go ahead anyway and without any regard to stealth, Bullock kicked in the freshly boarded-up entrance. As he booted his way inside, his eyes quickly adjusted to the complete darkness. Pulling out a bulky flashlight from his trench coat pocket, he switched it on. Fumbling for a light switch, he soon realized that every light in the place was out, probably by the fuse box.

"Nobody's home," he muttered, remaining cautious. Quickly moving through each room, he finally came to the main auditorium where the stage was located. Complete darkness… until he flashed a beam of light to center stage. Then to Bullock's horror, a row of children were bound and gagged to a series of chairs. The children sat next to each other forming a straight line and appeared to either be asleep or unconscious. Bullock raced to the stage and began untying the injured kids.

Without warning, the overhead lights above the stage illuminated the whole vicinity. Bullock knew he was in trouble. He quickly drew a submachine pistol from inside his bulky coat.

From behind the stage, a maniacal drone could be heard. Bullock knew that laugh. He knew it stemmed from none other than _the Joker_.

Without notice, the Clown Prince jumped out from behind the stage. Running across the room the clown began firing his signature silver Smith Wesson revolver at the fat detective's head.

Bullock dove to the floor, barely missing the projectile. But to no avail, the shot hit one of the orphans in the chest. The victim, a young boy lay lifeless as Bullock began firing. The shots were loud over the Joker's crazy laughter.

"Where's the Bat when I need him?" Bullock muttered under his breath.

At that moment as if hearing Bullock's question, Batman crashed through a half boarded up skylight, slightly injuring himself in the process.

"You," the Joker squawked at Batman. "You weren't supposed to find me! This ends now," the madman declared, firing his Wesson at Batman's chest and stomach. As the bullets bounced off the Kevlar of the Bat-suit, the Joker skipped away with finesse, strategically avoiding Bullock's gunfire behind him.

"Bats, go and find him! I'll take care of these kids," Bullock demanded in the heat of the moment.

Racing towards the entrance, he stormed into the grubby sidewalk outside the club. Looking around quickly, he found no sign of him.

_Where could he have gone so fast_, the Dark Knight wondered. Standing in the middle of the dark, dead street, Batman was quickly surprised as a bright red convertible coupe came from behind the building. It raced from around the corner and headed towards Batman. The headlights nearly blinded him as he jolted to the other side of the street. As the red car passed him, Batman realized that the driver was his maniac.

_He's getting away! _

The Dark Knight quickly threw a signal tracer, hitting and sticking to the bumper of the speeding red car.

"Not this time," Batman uttered to himself as his hands crossed his utility belt and pressed a button. Moments later, the Batmobile sped to his present location. Leaping inside, he was off in search of his foe. As the Batmobile raced through the streets, he noticed on the radio emitter that was fixed on the dash, that the dot that represented the Joker wasn't moving.

_He stopped_, Batman thought as he continued racing to its location.

As he came upon an intersection close to downtown Gotham, Batman noticed an old lady in a tattered robe crossing the street. Instantly, the old lady turned towards the Batmobile, holding a rocket launcher. With great intensity, the impressive firearm blasted a rocket towards the Batmobile.

The Batmobile swerved with remarkable force and barely missed crashing into a nearby building but was suddenly stalled as the rocket collided with the car's engine. Batman swiftly pressed the ejector mechanism under his seat. Almost immediately the car was engulfed in flame as Batman shot through the air, still secured in his seat.

It was done; the Batmobile was no more.

Parachuting down on his ejected seat, Batman stared at his creation. He couldn't believe that the Batmobile was destroyed. _And at the hands of my arch nemesis_,he thought.

Watching as the Joker ran as fast as possible, he landed securely on a building and unfastened himself from his seat belt. Hurdling off the building, he pitched a batarang as hard as he could in the Joker's direction. With great success, the batarang took out the Joker's legs.

Quickly, he charged to the dilapidated villain, cuffing him in a pair of winged-shaped cuffs from his utility belt.

"You fool, you know you haven't seen the last of me. It drives you crazy doesn't it Batsy? You can't stand that no matter how many times you capture me, I'll always come back. Ha ha ha! Your apprehension is in vein. I always come back; you'll never win! HaHa!"

"Shut up," Batman said to his constant laughing and banter, delivering a right hook to the Joker's face, knocking him out.

Batman carried Joker to a nearby street corner and radioed for police assistance through his utility belt. He still had to check on the welfare of the orphans that were captured. He knew that the Riddler was still out there as well. At least for now, this nightmare seemed to be over.

Noticing two squad cars pulling up the side of the street, he shot a grapple and disappeared over the ledge of a building.


	17. The AWAKENING Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

Days later, Bruce Wayne sulked in the dank Batcave underneath his manor. Two long days passed as he refused to leave the cave, ignoring his routine scour of the city; on top of that, Bruce had failed in showing up at work and various meetings.

Walking soundlessly, Alfred tiptoed down the shadowy staircase, holding a gold-inlayed lunch tray. He could tell something was seriously bothering his master but after this period of silence and solitude, the frustrated butler thought it was finally time for his moping to cease.

"I thought some food might be in order Sir," the butler firstly stated, setting the tray on a nearby table.

Bruce said nothing as he reclined in his black leather chair, his foot tapping erratically. Minutes passed and as Alfred refused to leave, he stared at him wordlessly. Bruce finally gave in and broke his silence. "I can't believe it. Had I acted faster, had I known better… if I'd done something else, that poor kid might still be alive," Bruce muttered, his tone mixed with disappointment and anger.

"Master Bruce, look at what you do for a living. You are quite possibly the city's savior. Ever since you were a little boy, you've had a drive that I have never seen any other man possess. You're Batman and even Batman can't win them all. You do this city justice and no one even asks you to. You're appreciated more than you know," Alfred countered in a long wind, standing straight and tall, proud of the young man before him.

"If I can't win them all Alfred, then what am I doing? I'm not a _savior_. That kid is dead – I blame myself, I couldn't save him," he detailed and sighed, pinching his eyes shut. "Listen, there's something you should know… for the past couple nights, I've been thinking about taking a break, quitting."

"What did you say?" Alfred's voice perked in disbelief.

"You heard me Alfred. I've been thinking about," he paused for a long moment, glancing around his dark lair. Standing up, he analyzed everything in his sight, from the computer hub to the costume chamber and simply the dank cavern surrounding them. "No, I can't do this anymore. You know what, it's over, seal it up," he stated, pushing his chair into the computer desk in anger and contempt.

"Excuse me Sir?" Alfred replied startled as the chair rolled and fell as it bombarded into the black marble desk.

"Seal up the Batcave. As of this moment, Batman's dead," Bruce declared heatedly, retreating up the long stairway, heading for his study.

"Master Bruce, stop right this instant," Alfred demanded as Bruce sighed irritably, taking a seat on the gothic staircase.

"What do you wanna say to me Alfred - that I shouldn't quit? Well, I've already thought of the consequences. A young orphan boy is dead," his voice boomed across the cave disturbing the bats above.

"Why is that your fault? One child didn't make it," Alfred combated heatedly, walking towards the staircase for a better look at Bruce. "This city needs you. Sir, do you remember your first year of operation in this city? Remember how hectic things were? Oh, I remember it quite well," he fumed in remembrance. "I've never nursed more injuries on one person in my whole career. And you Sir, you've never been covered with more bruises and scratches. I even remember when you were a spoiled child, falling into this cave's crevice for the first time."

As Bruce began to speak, Alfred continued cutting him off.

"Not so fast young man, you've had your chance to speak," he interrupted as Bruce conceded, hanging his head as Alfred continued. "And you want to quit now because a madman blew up a tower in downtown and took the life of a poor young man. But if you quit, think of how many more will be killed? Bad things happen, it's not your fault."

"When you first started, you virtually had no allies until you met Jim Gordon. Now many good cops aid you in your war on crime. And this has certainly been a busy month for Batman indeed. The criminals you previously captured will be on the loose again if the cape and cowl disappear from Gotham's streets and alleys. Now, are you going to look me in the eye and tell me you are quitting? Look at me," he demanded, his hands resting on his hips in defiance.

"Alfred, you're right," Bruce said with a slight chuckle. Wiping his face with his sleeve, he stood and stretched, descending the staircase to reside beside Alfred. "Who am I kidding? I'm more Batman than Bruce Wayne. As Batman, I'm myself; as Bruce, I masquerade, hiding my true identity. Thank you Alfred, I suppose I'll never be able to give up this mantle of the bat," he replied to Alfred's long-winded speech, his voice strong and settled.

"That's the spirit Sir," he briskly replied, clapping his hands together in triumph. "But to keep your alter ego, we must find a way to repair the Batmobile. And you have haven't been to Wayne Enterprises in a while. I've told Lucius Fox that you went out of town for a few days."

"Bruce Wayne needs a vacation but like you said Alfred, this city needs Batman. And I believe more so than they need some rich playboy."

He laughed, saying, "That may be Sir but even millionaire playboys have their responsibilities. By the way, how is Batman going to get around without his car," Alfred inquired, the question being on his mind for days.

"I'm sure this cave has a few extra toys laying around."

"Very good Sir," the butler understood, treading up the lengthy, shadowy staircase leaving his master alone to think.

Bruce was relieved that Alfred convinced him to not permanently hang up his cape and cowl. After all, he hadn't even considered quitting since his earliest days as the Dark Knight. But tonight, he proved to himself once and for all, that he'd probably always carry the mantle of the bat, in some shape or form.

* * *

That night high above the city stood Batman, out on his nightly patrol. As he stood menacingly on a gothic structure, he blended in quite nicely with the scenery. 

All at once, a brightly lit beam loomed through the sky - the Bat-signal. As he noticed it, he felt good in his suit again, knowing there was no other mantle he'd rather wear.

Knowing that someone was waiting for him at police headquarters, he shot a grapple line out towards the sky with great precision. A moment later he swung down towards police headquarters and as he landed with a graceful touchdown, Commissioner Gordon greeted him.

"You did great with finding the Joker but where the hell have you been? We flashed the signal last night and you never showed."

"Nice to see you too Jim," Batman muttered sarcastically.

"Well never mind. Look, two nights ago at Starlite Chemical Labs, the Riddler stole two hundred thousand dollars worth of chemicals and in the process, took three very good cops hostage."

"Is he still targeting Mayor Hill?" the Dark Knight queried.

"Well, considering the fact that this city is using temporary fill-ins for its council members, then yeah, probably. We've still got him under close watch."

"What would Nigma want with chemicals? I wonder if he's trying to poison Mayor Hill." Batman pondered aloud, stalking the graveled roof of the headquarters.

"I don't know, I just don't know. But there is this rumor going around that the Riddler has taken over a small-time mob. It's the Vanelli Crime Family. You know the one Batman. After Two-Face killed his old man, the son of the racket, Charles Vanelli, took over. Well, a few nights ago, he and a few of his entourage were found dead at a nearby landfill. We have a pretty good idea that Nigma was behind it. It doesn't fit his usual M.O. though. This guy is… for lack of a better term, definitely a whack job."

Immediately, Harvey Bullock ran out to the roof in a flash to join the two men.

"Hi Bats," he acknowledged in a hurry, breathing rashly. "Um Jim, we've just received word of Catwoman breaking into Goth-Corp. But nothing yet on what she was doing there."

"Damn it Harvey, how long ago was the break-in?" the Commissioner questioned, folding his arms firmly over his overcoat.

"Roughly about an hour ago," Bullock stated, lighting a cigar, stilling heaving from his run.

"Catwoman… well if there was any criminal intent, she's long gone by now," the Dark Knight grimly stated. "Nevertheless, I'll see what I can dig up at Goth-Corp," he finished as he leapt off the building and out of sight.


	18. The AWAKENING Chapter 7

**CHAPTER 7**

Later that night night, a black van pulled into an entryway of the shabby building in Crown Point, the Riddler's hideout. As its occupants exited the vehicle, commotion ensued.

"Mr. Riddler, Sir, it's finished," a shady hoodlum announced, opening the back of the armored vehicle so the Riddler could exit.

"Good job boys… things are on schedule. Soon we'll be able to start mixing the first batch of my toxin but I'll need some test subjects. Who wants to volunteer," the Riddler said with a grin, tipping his hat with amusement as they entered the building. Reclining on a beat-up couch on the far side of the room, he continued, "I'll need three strong, viable men to make sure this stuff works… I know!" Nigma proclaimed, pointing his index finger in the air with an idea, "whoever can answer a riddle gets spared."

"Aw, please Mr. Riddler, that's a bad idea, Sir," a goon called out from the pack, knowing they couldn't answer one of his ambiguous puzzles.

"Nope, it's a great idea. Riddle me this boys," he began with great enthusiasm, "What is the one fear that grips us all, yet no one can conquer?"

The men thought for a moment, looking around the old office for clues and then to each other for a possible answer. With a loud whistle, the Riddler gained their attention once again.

"Time's up boys. Anyone get it?" he waited to see if they mastered his playful conundrum.

"Uh, well boss, we ain't got it," one answered, scratching his head from flees. "Batman?" he finally replied, thinking of the first impossible thing they've come against.

"Batman? Ha!" he scoffed, standing to pace across the room in mere laughter. "That overgrown rodent just needs a good swat or two with a newspaper and he'll be set. Now…" he ceased his pacing, staring at his men, "none of you know the real answer? Hmm, well, rules are rules. I suppose I have more than just three test subjects," he laughed with irritation. "But anyway, the answer's death, you imbeciles. I should've known you nincompoops couldn't get it," he sighed, falling back on the couch.

"By the way, where's Catwoman? I need to speak with her. Catwoman!" the madman cried out for his accomplice, throwing back his head. "Catwoman," he called again as a crash was heard through a window in a back room of the refinery. The Riddler and his men exchanged perplexed glances just before rushing back to find Catwoman lying on the concrete floor, covered in bits of broken glass.

It was evident she'd been in a brawl since scratches and blood were apparently visible.

Through the shattered window stepped Batman and immediately the Riddler's men drew their guns and noisily opened fire.

Briskly evading the shots with a quick jolt to the left, then the right, he finally lunged for one of the gangsters and tackled him, pinning him to the ground. Swinging his batarang, he knocked a ready firearm from another goon who gripped his hand in pain.

Punching an unarmed goon and using him as a shield, he jumped into an open doorway, entering a massive stockroom. Swiftly shooting a grapple to a balcony overhead, he ascended to temporary safety like an avenging angel.

As the men from below continued firing, Batman ducked behind a large rusted metal crate to the right, securely out of range. Noticing that several armed goons had already utilized an old service elevator in route to the Dark Knight, he leapt off the balcony, gliding with his cape to the floor he previously ascended from. Turning to the left, he noticed even more armed thugs running towards him.

"Where are all these rejects coming from?" he garbled to himself. Spotting a door to the right, he ran for it, slamming the metal door shut behind him. _A stairwell, thank God_, he mused, racing to the bottom towards the exit.

Trapped inside, the door exiting the stairwell was jammed. Taking out a small plastic explosive from his utility belt, he placed it on the lock, and raced up a flight of stairs before it imploded.

Busting his way though the door, he made it outside into the moonlight, hearing the goons not far behind.

Hearing the sound of car engines roar, he moved faster. With his cape soaring behind him, an old blue Caprice began chasing him through an empty parking lot with occasional gunfire at his heels.

As the chase continued, he came upon a dead end. The car stalled, then moved slowly towards him with a goon hanging out the window. This thug was aiming directly at him with an old gangster style machine gun.

Thinking quickly, his hands crossed to his utility belt and as a smoke bomb hit the ground, a batarang flew through the rising haze and hit the armed goon in the face. A wail of pain could be heard as the goon slid back into the car.

Racing out of the corner, he dove over the Caprice's hood with great might. The instant he pressed a small button on his belt, a loud roaring hiss echoed from a nearby garage.

It was just where he left it, the Batcycle rushing to the aid of the Dark Knight. The motorbike was sleek, with all the usual refinements of Batman's arsenal. It stood five feet in length and was as black and sinister as somebody's nightmare. Hopping on, he sped out of the refinery parking lot, en route for home.

* * *

Two days later, around nine-thirty in the morning, Bruce Wayne strolled into Wayne Tower.

"Back from the dead," a voice said from behind. "Whoa Bruce, what happened?" he announced, seeing a black ring around his eye. "Thought you went to Switzerland? Not a military boot camp in Japan."

Smirking at the remark, Bruce grinned, knowing his friend was quite close to the truth. "Well, let's just the say the pine trees on the slopes aren't that friendly this year," he laughed, slapping his friend on the back, "Anyways, good morning Lucius. How are things?" Bruce offered as the men walked into his office.

"Well I could imagine why you took that vacation. I would to if my company was going to suffer a hostile takeover. Stress will do that to a man," Lucius exclaimed.

"Well, how is that going?"

"Actually Bruce, you'll never believe it. While you were gone, Wayne Enterprises sued Goth Corp for fraud and attempting to obstruct a business. Star Labs backed out. But the good news is the public got wind of this and now we've got the public behind us. Our stock just rose fifteen points," he announced proudly, straightening his pin-stripe suit and blue tie.

"Well great, I knew we'd come through."

"Yeah this was a close one. Alfred told me you had some business in Switzerland but refused to say what. Not with the company I hope?" he grinned, taking a seat.

"No, just personal, but it was truly an awakening," he replied, setting on the edge of his desk, thinking back to Alfred's sermon.

"Alright, well…" Lucius started as his beeper buzzed. Checking it, he soon dismissed himself, saying it was the wife.

Bruce gave a nod and walked him out the door as he greeted his secretary who just arrived with a fresh cup of coffee for him. Taking the cup from her petite hands, he nodded his thanks and reentered the office. Breathing deeply, he placed the coffee on his desk then continued his morning ritual by sitting down to look at the morning paper.

Finally relaxed in his brown executive chair, Bruce sighed with relief as his thoughts filtered into his scuffle with Catwoman a couple of nights earlier. Their battles had rarely been as brutal. He still had bruises from a few impressive blows she delivered, including the one on his face.

As he sat back with his arms behind his head, he wondered what tonight would bring.


	19. The AWAKENING Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

As the weeks passed, Batman couldn't rid his mind of the orphans. Still very concerned with the welfare of the poor children, he check in nightly on the two young boys who were still in intensive care at Gotham General Hospital. Luckily, the rest were rescued with minor bruises but the ghoulish matter still ate at him. The constant reminder shook him and he decided on a trip to Arkham Asylum to see the Joker.

Arriving out of the black nothingness of the sky, Batman approached two waiting guards at the asylum's entrance. As the tall, broad men led him inside through several corridors, Batman kept his vision focused on one thing, not allowing the other inmates to taunt or ridicule his presence.

Walking down a large gloomy hall inside the great asylum, fluorescent bulbs flickered overhead, casting shadows throughout the foyer. Once he arrived at the entrance of the high-risk prison ward, a guard knocked twice as the colossal steel door opened. Not seeing the man who allowed him access, the Dark Knight continued to follow his escorts down the decaying concrete passageway.

Passing several rows of indestructible glass, the sealed cells contained some of Gotham's most dangerous psychos. Directing his attention forward, he ignored the slurs and chants from the inmates surrounding him. Encaged on his right was the Mad Hatter, Scarecrow and Victor Fries, also known as Mr. Freeze. Two-Face, Calendar Man and Poison Ivy were housed on the left with the shape shifter Clayface imprisoned at the end of the hall in a specially made cell designed without seams to hold him.

With peripheral vision, he noticed the cells were dark, the lights out, unable to see his foes. Finally arriving at the Joker's cell, a note taped on the inside of the glass peeked his interest. Glancing over it, he realized that the Joker was expecting him.

Immediately, grim laughter echoed throughout the entire ward. Without warning, the Joker's face smashed up against the glass, scaring the guards whom jumped back. Striking a big smile for Batman, his yellow teeth and red lips pressed against the glass, leaving behind an imprint.

"Well Batsy, what took you so long? I knew you'd be here," the Clown Prince started, stepping back to gaze directly at the Dark Knight. "Hmm… turn that frown upside down dear Batsy. Had a bad night?" he mocked, holding his chin with his thumb and index finger braced on his cheek.

"Shut up. I want to know what your motive was. Why those children?" the Dark Knight wondered, his tone not designating any sign of concern.

"Look pointy ears, I won't be here for long so I might as well," he laughed, retreating to the steel bench to rest. "See, the truth is that I had big plans. The wretched brats were bait to lure you into a one on one fight to the death. But plans changed and I had to do what was necessary," the clown said proceeding in slight laughter.

"Necessary? You killed a young boy. For that you will pay," Batman threatened, his hand clamping into a fist.

"Pay Batman? When I escaped last time with Harvey and Clayface, I was going to become the king of Gotham," he jumped up, throwing his arms in the air and started pacing. "The Clocktower was to be a great diversion for the city while the three of us took over the underworld. But you got in the way," his voiced darkened, his pacing continued. "You always get in the way but even though you ruined my underworld ties, your precious tower still fell. Next time it'll be worse. I promise you Batsy, next time it'll be one of us. You or me, this town is too big for the both of us. One of us will have to go," he followed up with his own threat, swaying his arms menacingly.

"Joker, I'm not interested in your future plans. There's a city-funded movement to tighten the security of Arkham, which means you won't escape again. It's over."

"Don't be ridiculous Bats, Arkham is only the courts alternative to prison. I doubt that my insanity even plays a role in the reason I'm here. I mean what makes you think they can keep me here?"

"They will Joker, count on it," Batman declared, folding his arms in defiance.

"You're wrong, you overgrown excuse for a flying rodent. They can't keep me in here like some captive animal. I will get out and when I do, I will have my revenge," the clown argued, jumping back into the darkness, his laughter rising.

"It's pointless to argue with you," exclaimed the Dark Knight, turning his back to the cell. Infuriated with his obnoxious foe, he ignored the guards and raced from the wing, out of the asylum. Heading for the Batcycle parked outside, behind the massive gothic institution, he continued on his nightly patrol.

* * *

An hour later, the Dark Knight rode through downtown Gotham on the Batcycle, and for some reason he found the city strangely quiet. Speeding past the plaza, he eyed a couple of bums that made shelter at the demolition site where the majestic Clocktower once stood.

As he slowly passed a dark alley, he eyed it for any potential threat and just as he was to speed on, he noticed a mysterious shadow which appeared out of nowhere.

_Catwoman? What's she doing downtown_? he wondered, steering his bike into the alley.

The high-resolved cat burglar never operated outside the East End of Gotham, he found it unusual for her to be stalking these grounds at this hour with the Riddler loose.

With great haste, Batman departed from the Batcycle trying to stay as quiet as possible. As he spotted her on a fire escape, she leapt from sight. The only place for to hide was on the roof and as he swiftly climbed the rundown fire escape, he found her waiting for him.

"So we meet again Batman," the lustrous woman said with excitement, cracking her leather-clad knuckles before jumping off the edge of the building.

Racing after her, he leapt from the building as well and parachuted down to the street, mere seconds after his foe. In midair, he swung his feet forward, colliding with Catwoman, tackling her to the cold concrete.

Crashing in unison, Batman pinned her to the ground from behind but with a slick maneuver, she freed her hand and stabbed his chest with her claws, then delivered a successful blow to his head. As he fell over, she rose to her feet with great agility. Lunging on top of Batman, he quickly threw her off.

"Come around here often?" Batman inquired as he arose from the street.

"Leave me alone. Stay out of my business," she countered, landing a swift kick to his ribs.

As the Dark Knight stumbled backward, Catwoman sprang to the other side of the street. Moments later, she climbed up the side of another building but before she could reach the top, Batman shot a grapple to the roof and soared there with incredible speed. Without fail, Catwoman presented herself seconds later.

"What do you want with me?" she posed, hands on hips as she prowled the edge of the summit with ease.

Keeping her every move in sight, he slowly answered, "Just you and the Riddler."

"Oh him, well… you can forget it," she purred, jumping from the ledge to a squatting position. Erotically rising, she stepped closer to him, her feet in lined as if dangling on a tightrope.

"Help me bring him down," he started, not moving as she approached. "You know this situation better than I do. It would've been easier before but now I hear he's got respect in the crime community."

"So you're saying you need my help to nab Eddie; what do I get in return?" Catwoman remarked, smiling coyly as she wrapped her bare arms around his neck.

Before he could push her away, she abruptly pressed her lips to his, paralyzing his expected refusal.

"Not that," he declared, finding the strength to push away his rival and former flame.

"Well Batman, I'm a woman who knows what she wants and if you give it to me, perhaps we can make a deal but no… you won't do that will you?" she retorted, cocking her head to the side, her blue eyes locked with his. "Well then, we'll see what happens," she finished, leaping backwards again and again, performing a series of back flips that any gymnast would envy. Blowing him a kiss, she dove from the building and vanished.

The Dark Knight hurried to the edge to see if he could find her, but found nothing. His hand moved to his utility belt and within an instant the Batcycle awaited him below. He leapt off the structure, and landing effortlessly on the bike he sped away into the night.


	20. The AWAKENING Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

Days passed as Bruce Wayne nursed a sore heart of memories. Sipping a hot cup of coffee at Wayne Towers, he fumbled for a remote in his desk to turn on the closed circuit TV that hung on a corner wall of the office.

Flipping channels, he immediately turned back to the Gotham News Network, noticing breaking-news. Watching in shock, he realized what he was seeing.

_Mayor Hill was reported missing sometime last night at around midnight. It appears to be an abduction,_ Summer Gleason reported, a top anchor at the network.

_How did this happen?_ he wondered, hitting the mute button as the weather aired. _Batman's been visiting the mayor's mansion quite a bit. The security measures were up to date; no one could've broken in and nabbed him._

Returning the sound to the TV, another grave announcement flashed.

_Three witnesses sighted a man in green, believed to be the Riddler, robbing Gotham's First National Bank about thirty minutes ago,_ Commissioner Gordon said through the TV, to an anchor that was at the scene. _There's no sign of him or his newfound gang._

At that moment, Bruce knew something had to be done and the time was now! Pushing the intercom button to speak with Margaret, he canceled the rest of the day's meetings. Turning off the television set, he stuffed the bulky remote back in a drawer beside a metal box, which housed a concealed gun, and left.

* * *

Later that night, Batman stood ready in the Batcave as Alfred loaded a fresh utility belt. He ambled over to the central computer and keyed a few things in. After adorning his belt, Batman departed from his friend.

On the Batcycle, he shot off like a rocket towards the West End, a minor corrupt section of the city. Planning to check the bank for clues, he wondered if anything useful might have been left behind during the robbery. If nothing else, he betted that there would be a few of the GCPD still lingering around the crime scene. _Still, it's worth a shot,_ he decided, hoping to avoid any confrontation with cops, fearing it would be a waste of valuable time.

The Dark Knight wondered why the Riddler and his gang waited until now to capture the Mayor. Even though he had a pretty good idea that the Riddler was the culprit, he still wasn't completely sure. The biggest puzzle to this case was going to be how the Mayor was abducted under such tight security. One thing was for certain, Batman had to act fast. If any harm were to come to Mayor Hill, this city would fall deeper into Hell than it already was.

As he raced past downtown, he headed through to Davis Avenue, which was the city's main route from business district to the West End. At the corner of Davis and Grant, the First National Bank emerged from the nightly shadows. Just as he expected, cops swarmed the building.

Quickly downshifting the bike's gears, it stalled as he threw his weight to the left. Without hesitation, he turned the machine around and headed in the opposite direction.

Since his first destination didn't exactly pan out, he was off to the Bowery and out to Crown Point to pay a visit to the Riddler and his cronies. The Bowery was just outside downtown, so the Dark Knight took a shortcut through Old Gotham, the district closest to Gotham Square, to reach the Bowery faster and possibly save some spare time.

Switching gears again, the Batcycle hummed softer as it cruised into an alleyway. Batman soon reached the mouth of Crown Point. Stalling and shutting off the engine of his striking machine, he promptly concealed it behind an old rusted dumpster next to what he recognized as the Riddler's chemical refinery hideout.

With a moment's notice, he pulled a grapple gun from his belt and shot a line to the roof. From the roof, he rubbed dirt off of a domed skylight but no lights were visible inside. The place seemed deserted.

He quickly busted through the skylight and fell into the darkness, landing on his feet two stories down.

With a quick flick of his utility belt, his night vision lenses fell over his eyes. In the darkness, he saw nothing. _Empty?_

Moving around, he heard a faint beeping noise, an electronic drone sounding as if it was underneath the floor. As he took a few steps towards an entryway to the far left of him, a large and heavy fisherman's net fell from above trapping the Dark Knight.

. He grabbed a utility file from his belt and began sawing through the net. Abruptly the beeping drone stopped. There was now dead silence as he continued sawing through the net for a possible escape. He then heard a loud tick come from below him. Growing more nervous and anxious, as if he had made a mistake in coming here, Batman restlessly continued to break through the thick, heavy net. With a hole finally made in the net, he struggled to fit through just as something under the floorboard detonated.

_BOOM! _


	21. The AWAKENING Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

Three nights later, Commissioner Gordon stood impatiently atop police headquarters with Lieutenant Harvey Bullock as the Bat-Signal flared through the night sky.

"Jeez Commissioner, it's been three nights. You really think we should continue. I mean, he never misses a meeting," Bullock remarked

"What the hell are you implying Bullock? A Gotham City without Batman is no city at all. Now we've got to keep trying damn it," the Commissioner retorted back, frustrated at Bullock's comment.

"All I'm sayin' is that we ain't seen Bats in under a week. I don't know, maybe somethin's happened to 'em. It ain't like him. Frankly Jim, I'm gettin' spooked."

"Bullock I don't know what's wrong; he should've contacted us two nights ago. Maybe something did happen Lieutenant, but we still must keep trying. Batman would never give up on Gotham City and we're not going to give up on him," Gordon declared, ending the discussion on the matter.

Suddenly a young frantic voice behind them startled the men. Out from the roof's entrance sprang a random on-duty cop. The cop rushed to his boss' side and hastily handed Gordon a letter.

"Commissioner Sir, we found this letter and many like it posted on telephone poles up and down the streets, all throughout the city," the young cop frenetically exclaimed.

"What is it?" Gordon inquired grabbing the note.

"We've had some detectives look at it. We think it's a riddle," the cop informed.

"Let me see that," Bullock interjected with arched brows, snatching the note from Gordon. Unfolding the white piece of paper, he read aloud:

"Batman, I know you are planning to beat me at my own game. Well, you are a fool. I am very passionate about my art, my crimes. It takes a very crazy man to beat an even crazier foe. I suppose you have figured out by now that Mayor Hill is in my custody. So, if you can solve this riddle in time, I will let the Mayor go, or at least not eliminate him.

'What makes life from death, and royalty out of criminals?'

You have 24 hours to comply."

- The Riddler

"What do you think it means Bullock?" the Commissioner asked the detective, snatching it from his hands.

"I don't know; what do you make of it Jim?"

"I don't know, Lieutenant, but shut this damn thing down. He's not coming," Gordon ordered frustrated. "Bullock, if you or Montoya need me, I'll be in my office."

* * *

Moments later in the Batcave, Bruce Wayne was applying some burn cream to some scar tissue that was already forming on his knees from the blast days before. He hadn't been out of the cave since Alfred rescued him, nearly dead from the Riddler's chemical refinery. There wasn't anything left of the place, just charred ruins. He had been buried alive from fragments of the building; that was what had shielded him from most of the explosion.

The building's debris and the insulation of the Bat-Suit were pretty much all that Bruce Wayne could give credit to for being alive at this moment. He was also lucky that the Bat-Suit was equipped with a microchip that signaled the Batcave's central computer and alerted Alfred of his immediate danger, just as it was designed to do if ever there was a serious life or death situation. Yes, had it not been for Alfred's daring and successful rescue, Bruce Wayne, and more importantly Batman, would be no more.

He couldn't help but stare at the old man, who had yet again come through for him as he had many times before. As he continued rubbing the medicated burn cream on his upper torso, he watched as Alfred stood making the final repairs to the Bat-cycle that had been slightly damaged from the blast.

Abruptly, a red light blinked at the central computer as the telephone rang. The light signaled that it was Commissioner Gordon calling for Batman. After a couple days of ignoring his nightly persona in order to heal, Bruce decided to answer, after all this was the emergency line.

"Batman here," the injured man effortlessly disguised his voice, leaning back to elevate his feet.

"Batman, my God, are you alright?" Gordon spoke with concern, out of breath and surprised that he actually got a hold of the elusive crime fighter.

"I've seen better days Jim; what's up?"

With a huff, he continued, "I'm glad you've enjoyed your little vacation, but in two nights alone, the Riddler and Catwoman have robbed another bank, and now we have a ransom note that's been posted all over Gotham publicly, in the form of a riddle."

"Any news of the Mayor's whereabouts?" he asked instead of responding to the robbery or note.

"Well no, but we know he's unharmed. You have less than twenty-four hours to solve this riddle that Nigma sent us," Gordon anxiously informed, sighing to calm his nerves.

"Listen Jim, a lot's happened in the past two days; I apologize for my absence but it was necessary."

"No need to explain anything friend but can you get to headquarters? We have much to discuss."

"I'll be there within the hour," Bruce replied, hanging up the phone. As he stood from his chair, he winced slightly at his painful knee injury.

Shaking off the sting, he raced to the costume chamber and changed from his loafers, slacks and T-shirt to another Bat-Suit.

Moments later, he strolled out of the chamber, stopping Alfred in his tracks. The lanky butler gasped in awe at the sight of his master in the bat-like garb.

Gripping the handles of the Batcycle, the Dark Knight straddled the powerful machine and gave a kick to the clutch. Revving the engine a few times to get a feel of the repaired machine, he hunched over and sped out of the cave in a flash.


	22. The AWAKENING Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

As the night progressed at the Vanelli Mansion, many of the former Vanelli goons grew restless. With the Riddler's toxin recently massed produced, things were about to get interesting.

The Riddler sat in the former living room of the defaced mansion. He had taken time to redecorate, bribing a few willing henchmen to paint the walls green and cover the entire residence in ridiculous question marks. Then adding his own personal touch, he painted writings consisting of riddles on the walls and ceilings.

Dressed in his green leotard, he reclined on the Italian sofa, his feet propped up on a table. Hearing the clatter of high heels, he stood as Selina Kyle strutted into the room, clothed very casually, missing her Cat-garb.

With great haste she spoke, uneasy from his glowering glare, "Eddie, once we spread the toxin, I'm gone. I've given you access to everything you need. I –."

"Not so fast Miss. Kitty," the Riddler began, "Don't you want to be around for the inevitable finale? Batman will be here soon. He always is, especially after the ransom was planted all over the city last night. "

"The Bat is not gonna come Eddie, you killed him remember. The refinery blast, he's dead. He would have showed by now," Selina countered.

"Oh, don't say that. This crime won't be as artistic if the blast actually killed him. Don't worry these crimes take finesse. I know he'll come and this time he won't be able to solve my riddle. This time he'll lose."

"You really think he's alive?" she questioned, unable to accept the concept until she would see for herself. "You're mad Eddie, crime is not a game. You have objectives, motives. Frankly, you're nothing shy of an idiot."

All of a sudden their conversation went cold as lights fell to utter darkness. Two goons soon rushed into the living room. "Boss, what the hell is going on? The power's gone in the whole place," one of them exclaimed.

"Don't worry Frankie, the climax is about to come," the Riddler declared, clicking his heels together.

"What?" the goon remarked, unsure of his boss' intent.

"He's here Catwoman, now the fun can begin," the Riddler excitedly squealed.

"Look out!" a goon yelled, seeing a dark shadow above them in the skylight.

Without warning, both goons drew their guns and began blasting at the ceiling. Shards of cracking glass fell to the floor and the dark scene was overcome with a presence that had been non-existent before. The shady figure that was the Dark Knight landed in the center of the living room as a batarang shot from his hands and took out one the Riddler's goons.

"I can't see him boss, it's too dark," one of the henchmen yelled out, squinting to see.Suddenly a horde of goons entered the pitched dark room, all well strapped, removing their firearms to unload into Batman. Before anyone could find him, the Dark Knight decked a thug and quickly spun around to fire another batarang into another thug's chest. The goon howled in pain as the impact of the batarang dropped him to the floor. By now, the Riddler and Selina had exited into the adjacent hallway, preferring to leave Batman to the goons, at least for now.

Adjusting to the darkness, a large goon crept up behind Batman and bear hugged him while another prepared to fire a round directly into his chest. The Dark Knight quickly kicked his capturer's shin and as the man fell, Batman escaped from his grasp just before the other goon fired a few shots into his partner's chest.

Ducking and swiftly diving forward in attack mode, he grabbed the goon. Quickly punching him in the face, he threw the thug across the room.

There was no time to act decently as three more goons continued to fire. The Dark Knight hastily dodged another barrage of bullets and took out one thug with an impressive kick to the ribs.

As he whipped himself around, a goon quickly fired a shot. Batman darted behind the sofa, but the projectile hit him in the knee. Springing another batarang from his utility belt, it struck the attacker's face, knocking him unconscious.

Rising to his feet, the Dark Knight hobbled out of the room in search of Catwoman and the Riddler. As he entered the hallway, he could hear more shots being fired in other parts of the house.

Out of nowhere, a charging goon popped out from a doorway, firing a Tommy gun. The Dark Knight raced out of harms way, behind a ceramic pillar and threw a stun grenade. Suddenly a flash of blinding light compacted by a deafening boom filled the hallway.

With the goon momentarily disoriented, the Dark Knight met him with brute force, kicking him to the floor, knocking the gun from his grip.

Racing down the hall, he leapt up the massive staircase to the second floor. Once there, a heavy kick from behind knocked him on his knees. Moaning, he shook his head, whirling around to face Catwoman, dressed again in her costume.

"So, you aren't dead?" she started as he stood, each moving in circles around the other, ready for battle.

"No thank to you," he retorted, gripping his hands into fists.

She smirked slightly, her back curved as if on the prowl. "Well, you found us Bats and if you don't mind, I found what I came here for; what Eddie promised me. So… I'll be on my way," she explained slowly, holding up the Cat's Eye emerald.

"The only place you're going is back to Stonegate," he threatened, still circling.

"No," she laughed, flinging back her head, "you'll never take me back there," she declared, lunging for his throat.

Quickly evading her pursuit, Batman grabbed her arms, tossing her over the banister. Watching her fall to the first floor, he noticed she was injured as she struggled to stand seconds later. Knowing she couldn't get far, he proceeded to the master bedroom.

As he busted through a pair of locked, double doors, he squinted at the neon lights overhead. To the left and right of the doors, rested two giant question mark shaped canons.

The Dark Knight gasped as he recognized Mayor Hill, unconscious and gagged, bound to a chair in the center of the room. Abruptly, the door from which he entered slammed shut. Over an intercom hidden somewhere in the room, Batman heard the maniacal laughter of the Riddler.

"Tell me Batman," the villainous madman spoke, "did you in fact figure out my riddle?"

"Yes Edward, I've got it," he called out, racing to Mayor Hill to check for a pulse. "The answer is gangsters. The mob. They make a living by killing, which is death, and they get rich by doing it; they're treated like royalty out of fear. Clever Nigma, but not one of your best," Batman affirmed, smacking the mayor lightly, trying to wake him from his coma.

"Well then smarty pants, maybe you'll be able to get out of this death trap. You have three minutes to rescue your precious mayor before the canons go off. Once they go off your precious mayor will be dead, then the room will fill with my wonderful toxin. You will die Batman, and even if you do escape, you'll never be able to find me. I'll be long gone – out of the wasteland you call Gotham."

With that, the Riddler's voice trailed off and a ticking menacingly sounded over the intercom. With the Mayor unable to wake, Batman turned his attention to the chair, which was bolted to the floor. The man was tied with chains; the chains were intertwined around the steel bars of the chair and dangled with a combination lock.

Batman pulled a lock pick from his belt and began trying to pick the lock. Soon, the lock was broken and the Mayor was free but the canons were somehow triggered. They began moving on a turret, which was set on the two men placing them directly in the line of fire. Batman threw the Mayor over his shoulder and raced to a corner of the room. Both canons fired simultaneously, blowing a massive hole in the wall.

With the Mayor in tow, the Dark Knight quickly raced through the hole into another master suite of the mansion. Busting through the doors, he raced back to the hall and descended the same staircase where Catwoman once laid.

Previously unaware that the cops had arrived, he spotted several of them rounding up a few remaining thugs. Quickly handing over the Mayor to a duo in blue, the cops hastily grabbed him and called to an ambulance technician for a wheelchair. Putting him in a chair, the paramedic rolled him out the door to safety.

Deciding to check the rest of the house, Batman cursed himself for allowing Catwoman to disappear. Quickly scouting to the back of the huge manor, Batman bypassed several policemen and detectives, none of whom he spoke to. Wondering where the cat could be, he entered the billiard room, unable to find the light switch before a hard blow impacted his skull.

Falling over, he moaned in pain, holding his head. Again, the Riddler assaulted him with his signature brass cane. Straddling him, he pinned Batman to the floor, smacking and beating him in vengeful anger.

"Why can't I beat you Bat-brain?" the Riddler exclaimed, his voice high and shrill.

With his vision blurred and his head pounding, Batman struggled to regain control of his senses. As he delivered a straight, effective hook to Nigma's jaw, the clever madman fell backwards off the Dark Knight, wallowing in the floor.

Batman stood, dizzy, but managed to seize a pair of handcuffs from his belt, folding them around the Riddler's wrists.

"It's over Riddler. Back to Arkham," he muttered, leading the madman to the front of the manor.

As the Riddler was escorted to an Arkham van parked outside, Batman knew that this reign of terror was finally over. Pressing a small keypad on his belt, his Batcycle roared outside to the front of the manor, the beams on high.

The group of cops and Arkham officials watched in awe as the Dark Knight topped the impressive bike and sped away into the darkness.


	23. The AWAKENING FINALE

**Chapter 12**

The next night, Batman stood outside Jim Gordon's office window, haunting the cop like a ghost on a cold night. As he silently stepped inside the office, he called out to the Commissioner. "Hello Jim?"

"Huh?" the Commissioner exclaimed, looking up from his files behind his desk. "Oh hello friend," he added, not really surprised at the Dark Knight's arrival. "I owe you Batman, this city owes you. Thanks for getting the Mayor back to us."

"Don't thank me Jim," Batman replied, knowing it wasn't necessary.

"Any news of Catwoman?" Jim asked, changing the subject. "Nigma's back in Arkham, the Vanelli gang's dissolved but there's still no sign of her," he folded his arms and stood, only to sit on the edge of his desk.

"I think she got what she deserved Jim but I'll keep looking," the Dark Knight remarked, unsure of what to do about his feline foe, "and what of the Riddler's toxin?"

"Our boys have destroyed all of it, except for a small sample to be studied, by forensics," Gordon informed situating himself back in his chair.

"Tomorrow then Jim,"

"Thanks friend," the Commissioner remarked half concentrating on a report. But there was no reply. Looking around, he finally realized the masked vigilante was gone.

* * *

Later, amidst the shadows of some imposing gothic architecture of Gotham, the Dark Knight stood in contemplation, suspended like a gothic statue, high above the city. His cape drifted lightly behind him forcing him to fit seamlessly with the scenery around him.

Without warning, a bright beacon soared predictably, across the night sky. As he recognized the Bat-Signal, Batman aimed a grapple gun towards the edge of a nearby structure and fired. With a light tug, he felt the grapple line secure. Without hesitation, the dark figure leapt off his towering roost and into the night.


End file.
